


Delivered

by honestgrins



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, You've Got Mail AU, rival business owners, secret pen pals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestgrins/pseuds/honestgrins
Summary: Once upon a message board, BarbieBlonde and OriginalHybrid fell in fondness. With a shared interest in New Orleans’ supernatural history, they soon couldn’t pass a day without a new email or text from their online friend. It was a habit, an addiction they wouldn’t give up if they could - except they never took it past screen names.Caroline Forbes owns Mystic Bakery, her pride and joy in the NOLA small business community. When news of a Mikaelson Brews opening down the block broke, she did her best to grin and bear the bad omen of a chain store coming to steal her customers.Niklaus Mikaelson has helped his brother grow the family business to be a titan of the industry, even if it means steamrolling smaller companies in the process. One bakery decides to fight back, which puts the owner square in Klaus’s sights.What happens when these bitter enemies find out they’re soul mates?





	1. If Only I Could Have a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Her phone rang out, the Spice Girls singing in Caroline's ear as she struggled to open her eyes. She stretched her arm to reach the offending alarm, groaning as she sat up. The sky was still dark outside, but her brain was slowly waking up for another busy day.

Trudging to the kitchen to start her morning routine, she clumsily filled the coffeemaker for her needed jolt of caffeine. The slow drip gave her just enough time to shower before the carafe was full.

Feeling more awake after her shower, Caroline pulled her damp hair into a neat chignon. Early mornings were rough, but she refused to let that affect her primping for the day. Her yellow sundress automatically brightened her outlook, as did the comfortable flats she slipped on before heading back to the kitchen.

She hummed to herself as she poured fresh coffee into her travel mug, noting the time on the microwave. At nearly 5 a.m., she needed to be on her way out the door. The first sip of light roast was unbelievably cathartic as she set the carafe back on the warmer. Ducking into the bedroom, she placed a kiss on her sleeping boyfriend's temple.

"Caroline," Tyler moaned grumpily, burrowing deeper into the covers.

"Coffee's in the kitchen," she let him know. "Please wash it all out when you're done and don't forget to lock up."

When he grunted, Caroline took that as polite acknowledgement before leaving the apartment altogether. Only a few blocks from her bakery, she often took advantage of the southern New Orleans climate and walked to work. The city was very rarely quiet, but the din became a mild hum as Caroline trekked through the muggy morning, sipping her coffee.

Mystic Bakery was a small storefront, but Caroline felt an immense pride every time she saw the familiar sign hanging from the pastel blue building. She didn't bother to hide her smile as she unlocked the front door, the scent of brown sugar and chocolate engulfing her.

As a drama major at Tulane, she had thought her future was waiting for her in Los Angeles; dreams of a film career or a mildly successful television role put stars in her eyes. Those dreams would keep her up at nights, as well as the insecurities that often plagued a young Caroline when comparing herself to other actresses her age. To combat this stress, she often turned to baking. The sense of control and precise instructions oddly allowed her to relax. Her dorm mates were more than happy to relieve her of the extra calories, though, even begging her to make certain treats on demand. They were willing to pay, of course.

The more "customers" she gained, the more Caroline realized that maybe acting wasn't for her. Instead, maybe she could turn her small-time baking into a new and fulfilling career. She quickly changed her major to business, as well as turning her hobby into a legitimate bakery-by-order. After a scrap with the Health Department and some investment from her dad for new equipment, Mystic Bakery was up and running online.

It only took a couple years to save enough money for a down payment on the storefront; the building owner was ready to retire to Florida, and she gave Caroline a good price in the name of supporting local business. Grateful for the sentiment, Caroline had promised to always do the same. She took the opportunity and ran with it, perfecting the large and industrial kitchen to her exacting standards while filling online orders.

By then, Caroline had already persuaded her best friend to join her in the Big Easy. All it took was the promise of a spare room and study snacks for Louisiana's accounting certification test to get Bonnie Bennett out of their tiny hometown of Mystic Falls, Virginia. With the bakery receiving large orders on a near daily basis, Caroline needed the extra help with the business side of things, especially when it came time for expansion. Opening the store front to walk-ins was a huge step, one Caroline would have never taken without Bonnie's encouragement and numbers sense. Her biggest fear was trying to do too much too fast, especially with the nature of the food industry and how easy it was to fail.

When that train of thought lead to an inevitable panic attack, Caroline often retreated to her stress baking habits. The positive aspect of that was the accompanying sense of calm that warmed her as soon as she entered the kitchen.

That same calm washed over her as she flicked the lights on in the bakery. Every inch of the place was imbued with a piece of Caroline; it was a second home to her. Walking back to the kitchen, she quickly stowed her purse away and reached for her apron. The opening shift was one of her favorites, just a peaceful hour of making muffins with the buttery scent of bread baking.

She had just finished setting the first tray of bagels in the display when a sleepy Bonnie let herself into the shop. "Good morning," Caroline chirped, wiping the flour from her cheek.

"Coffee," Bonnie groaned.

Smiling, Caroline dutifully poured her friend a mug of the bakery's custom blend. "Someone's cranky," she noted as Bonnie sat at the counter. "Why are you even here? I thought you were working this afternoon."

"Morning, Gorgeous," Enzo called, flipping the sign to 'Open.'

Caroline nodded, needing no further explanation. Lorenzo St. John had started as a part-time hire. His tall and muscular frame was a selling point when Caroline first moved into the storefront, needing the extra strength to stock the store room and make deliveries. He quickly became a great friend to Caroline, whom he affectionately referred to as 'Gorgeous,' and his flirtatious personality easily earned the bakery a lot of regular customers.

While Bonnie had been reluctant to acknowledge his natural charm, Enzo nevertheless managed to eke a date from the ever-stubborn accountant. Apparently, those dates had been going well if Bonnie was accompanying him into work so early.

Raising an eyebrow, Caroline stifled a smile for her friends' sake. Enzo pointedly avoided them at the counter, instead flitting about to ensure the shop was ready to open. Any smugness she felt disappeared, however, when her phone beeped with an alert.

"What's that?"

She barely resisted the urge to check her phone, but Caroline couldn't hide the sheepish expression on her face when she met Bonnie's curious gaze. "A text."

Bonnie pinned her with an unimpressed glare. "I have spent more than enough time around you and your incessant texting to recognize your ringtones," she explained. "That sounded suspiciously like a different message."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Caroline said, hustling to wipe down the counter between them.

"Uh huh," Bonnie murmured sarcastically into her mug. "You're not on Tinder, are you? I thought things with Tyler are good."

"They are," Caroline exclaimed, eyes wide. "No, I'm not on Tinder. It's not a guy. I mean, it is a guy, but it's not what you think."

Setting down her mug, Bonnie's face scrunched in confusion.

Embarrassed, Caroline shrank under the scrutiny. "You're going to laugh at me," she muttered, twisting the rag in her hand. "You know that slight obsession I have with the supernatural?"

"I regret ever lending you my copy of Twilight," Bonnie joked. "Hello, it's why you moved to New Orleans, the spookiest party town in America."

"Yeah, well," Caroline stalled, only to launch into the whole story. "Okay, so there's this website, right? NOLA Supernatural Community is basically an online club for historical enthusiasts, and they have these message boards where we can all geek out together. I've been on it for like a year, but I kept falling into conversations with this one guy, totally a pompous ass who always has to be the smartest guy in the room. Except, he's almost always the smartest guy in the room, and he's super passionate about the community and everything in general, and I hate that he's so easy to talk to, but I also kind of can't help it."

Bonnie bit her lip, familiar with her friend's rambling tendencies. The habit only got worse when she was excited or keeping secrets. "What's his name?"

"That's the thing," Caroline sighed. "I don't actually know. The community apparently had some issues in the past, getting dragged through the mud as a bunch of crackpots. To protect members, they require us to only use screen names. I only know him as OriginalHybrid."

"Do you talk to him a lot?"

"Just a few messages a day, not even that sometimes," Caroline admitted with a shrug. "Still, I can't help but feel like I'm cheating on Tyler a little bit, you know? I talk to this guy about everything, including the hobby I'm too embarrassed to share with my own boyfriend. I love Tyler, I do."

Sensing a patented Caroline Forbes freak out, Bonnie quickly set aside her mug to grab her hands. "I know that, Care," she assured her. "Maybe you need to start looking at what you get from this message board relationship that you can't get from Tyler. It might be exactly what you need to take your relationship with Tyler to the next level. He's not exactly shy talking about his perfect political future with a perfect politician's wife."

Caroline blushed. She and Tyler were nowhere near the marriage conversation, though she had grown used to him staying at her place every so often. Before she could dig into those thoughts, though, Bonnie brought up another good point.

"So, who do you think this OriginalHybrid is?"

Shrugging, Caroline felt relieved to finally share this with her friend. "I have no idea. We're intentionally vague on personal details."

"That's sketchy," Bonnie noted.

"No," she immediately denied. "It's to protect me, too. The bakery has started to get some really good press. Do you really want my name to be associated with a supernatural message board?"

Opening her mouth to answer, Bonnie was quickly cut off by the bell Enzo had hooked to the front door. Their part-time girl, Davina rushed in with a look of outrage on her face. "What's wrong?" Caroline asked.

"That construction project we've been taking bets on down the street?" Davina huffed. "It's a Mikaelson Brews! My friend Josh interns with them, and he totally spilled the beans when we were at the bar last night. Can you believe it?"

Caroline groaned in disgust. "You're kidding! Mikaelson Brews is everything that is wrong with this industry," she ranted. "Bakeries are supposed to be about community, lovingly crafting each morsel of goodness for our customers. These huge coffee chains just burst in without a thought for the local businesses, and our customers flock to their mass-produced crap because it's just a little bit cheaper."

"Come on, Gorgeous," Enzo chided from the kitchen, where he had been finishing up the morning batches. "Where's the bubbly optimism that is always bursting from you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she clarified with a stern finger pointed at her friend. "Bring it on, Mikaelson Brews. You won't be chasing this bakery away from the neighborhood like you've done countless others."

While Davina righteously nodded along with her boss, Enzo and Bonnie shared a private look of concern. Caroline just went about dusting the shop, muttering about 'chains' and 'monsters,' but they couldn't help but feel like something bigger was coming for their little safe haven.

* * *

"Man, I told you coming home was going to be a great idea," Marcel bragged, passing over a cup of coffee. "I can't believe it took you so long to bring an MB to the neighborhood."

Smirking, Klaus accepted the drink. "Blame Elijah," he insisted. "He's the one who insisted on expanding nationwide before adding a third location here."

Mikaelson Brews was the family business, built from his mother's love of specialty roasts and his father's ruthless business acumen. As the Vice President of Development, Klaus was responsible for scouting new opportunities and setting up shop. He enjoyed the travel, but there was something nice about keeping a project at home. This quiet corner of New Orleans was just a few blocks from his studio, not that he had much time to devote to his artwork lately.

His friend shook his head in disappointment. "You blame Elijah for everything," Marcel pointed out.

"Not everything."

Leaving Marcel to ponder his sad admission, Klaus entered the construction site on the new Mikaelson Brews location. In the five years since he joined the company, Klaus had grown to take pride in developing a property. It amazed him to see a run down building become something entirely new and somehow familiar. Sometimes, all it took was a coat of fresh paint.

This project was a bit more involved, the entire block needing to be restructured for safety's sake. It took a bit of maneuvering to convince Elijah the investment would be worth the reward. Klaus's less than enthusiastic return to the family fold had put a strain on their brotherly bond, but he made sure to work Elijah's guilt in his favor to devote company resources to rebuilding the block. Not only would it attract similar businesses to invest in the area, but it would likely allow the Mikaelsons to make a tidy profit.

If only Klaus had been that good before running his own business into the ground.

He coughed, needing himself to focus on the project at hand. "So what's the status update?"

Noticing the odd mood, Marcel didn't mention it. "Contractor said the foundation is solid as a rock, and the studs should all be in place according to the floor plans," he explained, checking his iPad for the latest communication. Working for his best friend allowed him a bit more responsibility than most of the deputy directors in the Mikaelson Group, and Marcel lived up to the task. "She wants the plumbing and electrician teams in on the same day next week to start finalizing plans and details, we just need your signature to approve the appointment."

Checking his phone, Klaus nodded only out of habit. "That's great," he muttered. When he saw no new messages waiting for him, though, he looked up to give Marcel his full attention. "When can the plumbers and the electricians start to get things running?"

"I knew you weren't listening to me."

Sheepishly, Klaus put his phone away. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it this morning."

"You have plans with Cami tonight?" Marcel asked knowingly. "I remember Elijah being distracted before he popped the question to Hayley."

Klaus groaned at the reference to his brother's marriage, before he fully processed what his friend was implying. "Wait, I'm not proposing to Cami."

"You're not?"

"She wants me to," he answered honestly, rubbing his neck. "I just don't see the point. We're already living together, and I think that's enough for now."

He jumped when his phone beeped, the ringtone assigned to his NOLA Supernatural Community alerts. It figured that as soon as he started to balk at furthering his relationship with Camille, he would get a message from BarbieBlonde. A year of chatting with an anonymous woman, and Klaus had unwittingly developed a deeper connection with this stranger than his own, live-in girlfriend. Unwilling to share that with Marcel, however, he forced himself to ignore the immediate urge to check his phone. "Um, you asked about my plans tonight? I'm taking Kol and Rebekah with me to explore the neighborhood a bit, get a feel for the dynamics."

"Let me guess," Marcel chuckled. "Elijah's idea?"

"'We must be willing to do our part for the business, Niklaus,'" Klaus mocked his older brother's crisp voice. "He wants them to do more than live off their trust funds."

They walked through the site, Marcel taking notes as they found flaws or concerns. "I know Bekah wants to do her event planning thing," he said, more familiar with the youngest Mikaelson than her older brothers liked. Still in college, Rebekah was the baby. They didn't like to remember she was more than that. "Does Kol want to join the Mikaelson Group?"

"Kol wants to drink and party," Klaus snorted, thinking of his youngest brother. "I'm surprised Elijah got him through Vanderbilt."

"Me, too," Marcel admitted. "I guess you could start bringing him along on your development trips, train him as a deputy."

Shaking his head, Klaus bent over Marcel's iPad. "That's what I have you for, mate," he said. "It looks like the project is shaping up, and on schedule, too."

Marcel nodded. "It might be time to announce," he suggested. "While getting to the know the neighborhood is a good start, they also need to know you."

His phone practically burned in his pocket, the unread message taunting Klaus. BarbieBlonde would probably agree with his partner. Her responses were always alight with enthusiasm, often a passionate defense of supporting the local New Orleans. That was partially why he remained so strict with the anonymity clause of the supernatural community; he knew if BarbieBlonde recognized his name, she would paint him as a soulless Mikaelson like his father.

He was not Mikael Mikaelson, and the last thing he wanted for BarbieBlonde to see him that way.

Even after a year of near constant conversation, Klaus still felt silly only referring to his unnamed friend by a screen name. He knew so much about her, her hopes, her dreams, everything she wanted in life - but only in the most vague terms. It was maddening, truly, but also necessary.

He was too attached, he knew that. Camille would likely have a field day with his willingness to share with a complete stranger, when it was like pulling teeth for him to share anything with her. It wasn't personal, Klaus rarely opened up to anyone. Call it his artistic spirit, but he cared more for the muse than the introspection.

As a psychiatrist, his girlfriend disagreed wholeheartedly.

But it wasn't Camille he was concerned about when discussing the new shop's announcement with Marcel. No, he wondered what BarbieBlonde would have to say about his mass-marketed experience taking over yet another city block that just needed a bit of love.

It was with her in mind that he fought to restore the buildings to their original designs, with as few indulgences to modernization as possible. She was the reason he sought local online shops looking for a storefront, wanting to give them the opportunity to expand as well. A part of him dreamed one of those shops might be hers; it was entirely possible, since he had no idea what she did outside of running her own business.

Wouldn't it be something if he could support her, even in such a roundabout way?

"You're right," he said, agreeing with Marcel. "The neighborhood does need to know us, just not tonight. Tonight shouldn't be about the Mikaelson name. It needs to be about learning what the Mikaelson name might be overpowering when the announcement does go out."

"That was…deep." Marcel almost seemed impressed, which put Klaus on edge. "What's gotten into you?"

Sipping at his coffee, the dimples in his cheeks were the only sign of Klaus's smile. His other hand fell to his thigh, lightly tracing the shape of his phone through his jeans. "Let's just call it inspiration."

"Whatever, man. We should finish the walkthrough, remind you exactly what you're working for," Marcel said, clapping his friend on the back. "Elijah might have dragged you back to the company, but this is all you. You should be proud."

"I am," Klaus answered easily, though his face had gone slack at the advice.

"I just mean, with your gallery and—"

"I'm proud, Marcel," Klaus bit out. "I've opened successful Mikaelson Brews before, but this one is special. We're building this from the ground up, seeing it through the whole way. It's as much of a legacy as I'm ever going to have."

Marcel shrugged. "I don't know about that," he said. "I'm going to go check with the crew, see if they have any other updates for us while you're here."

"Okay," Klaus agreed, immediately pulling out his phone to open the app he used for the community message board. It had been a whole ten minutes, a lifetime really, since BarbieBlonde texted him. Their private chatroom often fired back and forth, a more common occurrence now that he was based full time in New Orleans.

**_BB: You know, I like to think I can be easygoing and adaptable, but do you ever have those days where you get news, and you just know that everything is going to change?_ **

Smiling down at his phone, Klaus recognized her rambling associated with a particularly agitated state.

**_OH: Change can be good. It can be an opportunity to learn and grow._ **

**_BB: Oh, bite me. Change sucks. Why can't things just stay good and happy and copacetic? This never-ending search for growth is just a recipe for disaster._ **

**_OH: Or maybe it's the human condition._ **

**_BB: Good, then we're doomed._ **

**_OH: When did I become the cheery one? Are you okay, sweetheart?_ **

Her instant replies suddenly stopped, and Klaus wondered if he had said something wrong. His use of pet names had been a point of contention during their first, antagonistic conversations, but that hadn't been an issue in months.

When she did finally answer, her curt tone had him frowning.

**_BB: Fine, thanks. Got to go._ **

Not wanting to explain his confused pout to Marcel, Klaus slipped his phone back into his pocket. Knowing BarbieBlonde, she would rant about whatever was bothering her at a later time. Until then, Klaus had plenty of work to do before unleashing his siblings upon the neighborhood.


	2. And It Was Grand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

The bakery had been busy all morning, effectively distracting Caroline from her bitter ramblings on the new Mikaelson Brews. After a quick afternoon nap, though, she awoke with a new determination to rally the neighborhood against big business attacking their little economy. She might not be able to stop the franchise from setting up shop, but she could certainly run a small campaign to support local businesses.

When she brought up the idea with Tyler over dinner, her boyfriend seemed pretty supportive. "Of course, Mikaelson Brews is technically a local business," he pointed out. "The mayor wouldn't want me to get too involved if it meant going up against the Mikaelsons. They're some of her biggest donors."

Caroline had deflated. The Mikaelsons were one of those rich families that always seemed to have influence around New Orleans. She often accompanied Tyler to city events, and Elijah Mikaelson's presence was keenly felt even among the elite crowds. His formal attitude was almost off-putting in its dry condescension, only second to the crisp, designer suits he always wore. It figured that the mayor wouldn't want to cross him.

Instead, devoting her time and energy to Mystic Bakery was going to have to be Caroline's main defense against the new competitor. Kissing Tyler goodnight, she headed back there for the night shift. It had been Enzo's brainchild, serving boozy desserts to the partying masses that bled from the French Quarter. They totally stole the walk-up window idea from "2 Broke Girls," but it did change their business for the better.

She found Davina waiting on the stoop, staring at her phone in boredom. "Hey," Caroline greeted. "No Enzo?"

Looking up, Davina smiled. "He and Bonnie are having a date night," she shrugged. "I guess you're stuck with me."

"Sounds good to me," Caroline laughed, letting them into the bakery. "Tell me about school."

Davina launched into a story about how her art program was completely failing her muse, and kept going all the way through prep. "I just don't understand how learning about old men and their various depressive stages is going to hone my craft," she whined as she wiped down the counters.

"You've got to learn the rules before you break the rules," Caroline answered with a shrug. "Unless you're Bonnie, then breaking the rules is to be frowned upon. I think that's her accountant brain, though, because she was always the first one to go along with my terrible ideas in high school. Senior prank night? I just wanted put honey on the doorknobs. She's the one who got the cops called on us."

"What did she do?"

"Snuck outside to spray paint our school sign," she explained. "One of our teachers was out running, caught her in the act of changing it to Mystic Balls High."

Laughing, Davina pulled out the bowls they used for mixing batter and frosting. "That's awesome. I wish I knew you guys back then."

"We haven't changed too much," Caroline admitted. "We're just less destructive now that we're productive members of society. It's the cost of doing business. Speaking of, what should our signature special be tonight?"

Davina checked the chart Caroline kept near the window, efficiently rotating their specials to keep people interested and coming back. "It's the Irish Stout Cupcake, isn't it?"

Shrugging, Caroline shook her head. "That's all Enzo, and I don't want to get stuck with a whole batch without him to eat them." While she was a big believer in taste testing for quality, stout beer cupcakes with Irish cream frosting were definitely not to her particular tastes. If that wasn't bad enough, they didn't always sell well; Caroline was always looking for an excuse not to make them in bulk. "What's your favorite?"

"Boozy Mocha Brownies," Davina answered dreamily.

Caroline nodded. "Okay, then get the Kahlúa, we've got some baking to do."

One of Bonnie's conditions for opening the late-night window as to keep the overhead costs low. Using a signature special might not provide the variety their daily customers enjoyed, but they still sold out more often than not. A surprising financial boost came from selling bottles of water to wasted partiers, too tired to make it all the way home without a drink.

Let Mikaelson Brews try to beat that kind of service.

A couple of hours later, they had opened the window and already sold about half the brownies. Caroline ducked back into the kitchen to check on a batch still in the oven. Pleased at their progress, she rejoined an annoyed Davina at the register.

"Well, aren't you a tasty little thing?"

Glancing up, Caroline arched an eyebrow at some guy leering. The British accent might be intriguing, but it hardly gave anyone the right to be gross. "Excuse me?"

"Don't bother," Davina huffed, otherwise ignoring the man crowding the window. "He tried, like, three terrible pick up lines on me before you got here."

"Agree to disagree, darling," he flirted, literally batting his eyelashes at Davina. "That was some of my best work."

Davina turned to face Caroline, completely unimpressed. "Like I said, don't bother."

"You've got good taste," a young blonde commented, elbowing the guy so he stepped back. With her disdainful look, Caroline thought the girl channeled Posh Spice. "Ignore my dreadful brother, and tell me about these treats. Are they skinny?"

Frowning, Caroline and Davina shared an odd look. "Nope," Caroline finally answered. "They're fat and drunk, just the way I like them."

The brother looked ready to jump on that comment, but a hand clapped on his shoulder before he could even open his mouth. "Shut it, Kol," another man said, the same accent doing much more for him than it apparently did for Kol. A blond man moved to the window, his dark pink lips curved into a smirk. "Good evening."

Thoroughly distracted by the small dimples in his cheeks, it took Caroline a moment to realize he was talking to her. "Hi," she squeaked. Embarrassed, she coughed before adopting her professional expression. "We've got the Boozy Mocha Brownies tonight, made with Kahlúa, Baileys and a dash of vodka. It's five dollars apiece, two dollars for a water, or six dollars for both."

Handing over a twenty, the man gave a charming smile. "We'll take three of each, keep the change."

"Thanks," Caroline said, feeling her smile turn just that shade of fake at his somewhat smarmy tone. This was why flirting with customers was such a touchy thing for her; Enzo had the patience to deal with the more unpleasant experiences, while Caroline often found herself wishing she had a drink to thrown in their faces.

She passed the bill to Davina before reaching under the counter to their fridge of water. Pulling out three bottles, she set them in front of the man then wrapped up three brownies. "Here you go, have a nice night."

While Kol and his sister eagerly grabbed two of the desserts for themselves, the man just stared disarmingly at Caroline. "Have I offended you, love?"

"Not at all," she answered, fighting to keep sarcasm from bleeding into her voice. He really hadn't been rude or anything; Caroline blamed her bad mood on the Mikaelson Brews bombshell. "It's just been a long day."

"Nik, you have to try this," the blonde girl interrupted. For someone so hesitant that the brownie wouldn't fit in her diet, she was surely moaning about it. "It's genius."

The man, Nik, smirked like he didn't quite believe her. "Give me a moment, Bekah," he implored. "Keep Kol from wandering."

Muttering, Bekah did as he asked. Caroline was gratified to see that the girl did truly seem to enjoy the dessert, even if this Nik guy was unconvinced. "I'm impressed," he said, completely subverting her expectations. "My sister isn't one for sweets these days. You have quite the setup here."

"It's pretty great," Caroline bragged, taking a sip of her own water. Davina was busy with the register, not bothering to join the conversation. "Are you from around here?"

"New to the neighborhood," he answered. "I didn't know the nightlife extended this far from the Quarter. Do you get a lot of business? I can't imagine why you wouldn't with this window."

Caroline blinked, surprised at the genuine interest. "Yeah, we do. It took a little bit of time and a lot of compromise with my team, but we managed to make this work in our favor. Our regular customers were really helpful in spreading the word."

"Seems like a good area."

Nodding, Caroline smiled brightly. "We take care of each other," she said, though her smile fell at the enemy shadow that had been hanging over her head all day. "But our days might be numbered. There's a Mikaelson Brews opening up down the street."

His eyes opened wide, which Caroline took as an expression of fellow outrage. "I know, right?" she exclaimed. "I'm so tired of these greedy companies coming in, just to chase out the small businesses doing good work. I work my ass off to keep this place as awesome and unique as it is, but they can just throw all their extra money at a new location with no creativity whatsoever."

Tongue poking out to run across his bottom lip, Nik shifted across the counter. "It's just a coffee place, isn't it? Surely there's a place for it to fit in the local scene."

"Seriously?" Caroline asked, incredulous. "They sell coffee, tea, and baked goods. I don't know if you noticed, but this is Mystic Bakery. A bakery. I can't afford to undersell a national chain. But my main point is that I shouldn't have to. My business is going to suffer if my customers are willing to sacrifice the quality products I give them for the cheaper swill they sell at Mikaelsons."

"Isn't that the beauty of the market?" Nik pointed out with a wicked grin. "Survival of the fittest and all that?"

"Oh, I'm going to survive," Caroline replied stubbornly. "But this neighborhood deserves better than the cookie cutter experience and a lack of real service. Not to mention, I wouldn't be the only one affected. The herbal tea shop, the kitschy coffee place around the corner, the free trade craft shop - all in direct competition with the wares Mikaelson Brews peddles literally everywhere."

Nik crossed his arms, tilting his head in consideration. "You certainly are passionate," Nik said. "I didn't catch your name."

"Caroline Forbes, owner and head baker." She offered her hand. Rather than shaking it like a normal person, though, he pulled it up to his lips. Too stunned to stop the old-fashioned trick, she let her hand drop to the counter once he released it. "And you are?"

"I'm Nik," he answered, grabbing his forgotten brownie and the bottle of water before pushing away from the window. "I look forward to seeing you around, Caroline."

Shocked, Caroline watched him corral his siblings before disappearing down the street.

"What the hell was that?" Davina asked, noticing her boss's uncharacteristic silence.

"I don't know," Caroline admitted. "New neighbors, I guess."

* * *

As much as he loved his siblings, there was only so much bonding he could take in a week. After dropping Rebekah off at her dorm and Kol at his flat, Klaus was relieved to have the back of the cab to himself. The few moments of silence before the driver made it to his place gave Klaus the chance to think.

His little mission, though a directive from Elijah to get their baby brother and sister involved in the company's future, had garnered some important insights into their new location. Klaus had done the research in the developmental stages, but it was all spreadsheets and numbers. Had he spoken with the fiery woman at the bakery two years earlier, he might have sought a different area to build a Mikaelson Brews.

Smirking at the memory, though, he couldn't help but appreciate the angry flush to her skin as she passionately defended her neighborhood's local businesses. It reminded him of another feisty blonde he had yet to hear from since she abruptly ended their conversation that morning.

He pulled out his phone, opening their private chatroom.

_**OH: I know you're strenuously against change, but I've been feeling particularly optimistic lately. I feel like I should blame your sunny disposition.** _

Waiting impatiently for a response, Klaus was delighted to hear the familiar buzz of a new message.

_**BB: My sunny disposition has been on the fritz today. It's like there's a dark cloud coming, and I don't know what to do about it.** _

_**OH: Can I help?** _

_**BB: Just be my friend.** _

_**OH: Done.** _

The cab driver reached their destination before BarbieBlonde texted back, and Klaus reluctantly tucked his phone away. Paying the man, he scooted out of the car to let himself into his townhouse. "I'm home," he called.

"Hey," Cami answered from the living room. His girlfriend was sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. "You're home late."

"Elijah asked me to take Kol and Bekah out," he explained, realizing he forgot to keep her apprised of his plans. It was a bad habit she had asked him to rectify since moving in together. "We explored the area where the new location is going in."

Cami nodded. "Sounds fun," she said, though her voice was flat.

Klaus knew she was likely miffed he didn't invite her out, but she always complained about how she didn't get along with his younger siblings. "It was fun, surprisingly so." He sat in the armchair, cringing at the Dr. Phil episode paused on the television. "Kol chose a Tex-Mex restaurant, Bekah dragged us through some of the shops. There was a late-night bakery with some interesting offerings."

"Did you bring me any?"

"It was really good," he joked, trying to smooth over her disappointment. "Tell you what, I'll take you there some night this week."

Somewhat mollified, Cami resumed her TV watching. "This girl thinks she's pregnant with a baby Jesus," she explained excitedly. "I wish I had patients at least half this interesting."

Shaking his head, Klaus reached for his laptop sitting on the coffee table. "I don't understand why you like watching this so much. Don't you spend all day listening to people whine about their problems?"

"Psychology is deeper than that," she defended, throwing popcorn at him from across the room. "Like today, I had this one guy who…"

As she delved into her story, Klaus fired up his computer to log into his OriginalHybrid email account. Perhaps the disinterest he felt in his girlfriend's story ought to have been a sign that the relationship wasn't a good one, especially in comparison to the way his blood raced at the new email from BarbieBlonde sitting in his inbox. Keeping track of multiple conversations on multiple platforms was a juvenile habit he often teased Rebekah over, when her boyfriend of the week just had to send her a Snapchat video, tag her in an Instagram photo, and post on her Facebook wall within five minutes of each other.

Oddly enough, Klaus felt no such shame in doing the covert version of it with BarbieBlonde, even with his live-in girlfriend just across the room. Fully admitting he was a terrible boyfriend, Klaus wasn't quite sure why Cami stuck around.

They had met when Klaus first returned to the city five years earlier, bullied by Elijah into joining the Mikaelson Group after his own art gallery had failed in Chicago. With the new familial pressures, he found himself frequenting a bar in the Quarter where Cami bartended during grad school. It was easy enough to fall into a casual relationship, made easier by Klaus's intensive travel schedule for work. Cami had always been willing to catch up whenever he had to return to the New Orleans home base.

Living together was just supposed to a transitional thing as Klaus settled more permanently in the city and Cami made the jump from school to working full-time in clinical psychology. Comfortable enough, they never bothered to move into their own homes. Klaus thought that was what a relationship should be, too easy and comfortable to bother changing.

In the year since BarbieBlonde caught his attention on the community's message board, though, he realized that a better comfort came from being challenged, and that challenge overcome. She would fight, argue, counter his every opinion and perspective, and Klaus had more fun in a purely written exchange than he had with his own girlfriend.

Still, he did nothing to change his situation. He just let Cami tell him about her day while he focused on a new email from BarbieBlonde.

_**I have a surprise for you!** _

_**I know you are much too busy to explore the bookstores, mystery businessman that you are, but I found an excellent haunt with the most amazing section on occult history. Seriously, it's not just three entry-level books on Wiccan studies and a candle, but an entire section devoted to the supernatural and other mystical oddities. I've already read most of the New Orleans specific stuff, but you are going to love this place, I just know it.** _

It felt strange to trust a perfect stranger, but Klaus had no doubt that she was right. More than that, BarbieBlonde's brand of enthusiastic confidence was hard for him to resist.

**_I have to admit, I first visited The Shop Around the Corner because it's a reference to some of my favorite movies. It's still a gold mine, and you should definitely drop in during your nonexistent free time. Take a vacation or something. I promise, it'll be worth it. — BB_ **

Though his fingers itched to reply with a promise of his own to do as she said, Klaus noticed Cami watching him expectantly. "Pardon?"

"I asked if you wanted to spend the day together tomorrow," she repeated. "It's been a while since we've had quality time."

Blinking, Klaus almost subconsciously shook his head. "I have to work."

So much for that promise to take a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the unpopular pairing moments, but it's a necessary evil. Thank you all for reading and leaving such kind reviews, it always helps to hear what you like (or maybe loathe) about the story! I've got about three more chapters already written, so I'm using those as an encouraging buffer to keep to a weekly schedule. Keep me honest, friends, because work and school are about to get a lot more hectic - but I want to keep my writing a priority, too. Let me know what you think of the chapter, and you can always hit me up on AO3 or Tumblr at the same username. Cheers!


	3. Good Golly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Shuffling his portfolio and iPad to one hand, Marcel tentatively raised the other to knock.

"Come in." Elijah sounded tired and resigned, not a good sign for the meeting Marcel hoped to have. Once he entered the CEO's office, though, he realized the resignation wasn't directed toward him.

Hayley Marshall-Mikaelson was standing behind her husband's desk, arms crossed in apparent irritation. "We haven't been to the beach in ages, and this house is gorgeous," she said, ignoring Marcel's approach. "I'm not asking you to drop everything and go this minute, just to give me a good week so I can book the reservation."

"Not now," Elijah answered in a hard voice, not even facing his wife. "Marcel, where's Niklaus? I was under the impression you had a report for me on the South Street project."

Coughing, Marcel straightened his posture. "I actually wanted to discuss the opening with you, before Klaus arrived."

"Elijah," Hayley interrupted with a huff.

Turning an imperious gaze on her, Elijah raised his eyebrow archly. "I'll be home for dinner, dear." While it may have once been a loving endearment, the dismissal rang clear. Hayley turned on her heel to stalk out of the office, nearly bowling over Klaus who had just arrived.

"Excuse you," he snapped, no love lost for his sister-in-law. When he received no response, Klaus furrowed his brow at the men waiting for him. "What's with her?"

"You were saying, Marcel?" Elijah asked, pointedly avoiding his brother's question. "What about the grand opening?"

Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise; Marcel never mentioned anything about the opening to him. "Yes, partner," he said dangerously. "What about the opening?"

Giving that charming smile of his, Marcel refused to show any weakness in the face of his best friend's ire. Klaus might have excessive pride and ego, but Marcel was the one to truly care about Mikaelson Brews and growing the business. He might not be family, but he was as close as they come. "I want to involve the surrounding neighborhood, turn it into a celebration for the whole area and not just us," he explained. "It might be more costly than budgeted, but I believe it would signify our investment in the local businesses, encouraging them to invest in us, too."

"Business is competition," Elijah noted. "Shouldn't the celebration be about our renewed presence in the city, attracting others from outside the area?"

"That's exactly my point," Marcel exclaimed, barely resisting the urge to nudge Klaus out of his eye roll. "We are a good thing for the neighborhood, and inviting them to join in our success can prove that better than just showing up one day."

Klaus just chuckled, making himself comfortable in the leather chair settled across the desk from his older brother. "They don't want to join in our success," he said. "Bekah and Kol, as flighty as they can be, recognized the malice that seemed to accompany the Mikaelson name during our adventures last night. They're going to hate us in the beginning, no matter what we might do to assuage them."

Clenching his fists around his portfolio, Marcel shook his head. "And that's just okay with you? Writing them all off before we've even introduced ourselves?"

"We're going to get them eventually," Klaus shrugged. "It's happened a dozen times before, yet they always grow used to us. Soon, they'll forget we were the new kids on the block and buy our product all the same."

"That's so cynical—"

"Marcel," Elijah cut off without humor. "Niklaus, please elaborate on your experience. I had hoped you would include at least Kol on this discussion."

Snorting, Klaus reclined in his seat. "He's probably sleeping off the Hurricanes we had at dinner," he admitted. "Add that to the lethal brownies we had for dessert, and our lightweight brother didn't stand a chance."

"Odd, considering we don't serve alcohol, therefore these establishments aren't exactly the competition you were supposed to be evaluating."

Marcel and Klaus shared a commiserating look at the stern observation; even when they disagree, they couldn't find a better teammate against Elijah. "You asked us to learn about the climate of the area, and I'm telling you these are some fun-loving neighbors," Klaus explained tiredly. "Rumors have gotten out, though. I received a lovely rant about the Mikaelson Brews coming to steal all their business."

Both Elijah and Marcel's expressions turned curious at the rare delight Klaus showed in the company dealings. "So you did investigate the competition," Elijah sighed, somewhat relieved. It meant his brother was taking the business seriously.

"Mystic Bakery," he answered. "I haven't done a proper visit, but their baked goods are the issue more than any coffee or tea offerings. They certainly are creative in their recipes, though, and in their practices. A late-night window for visitors to walk up and order a signature treat."

"Interesting," Elijah mused, writing something down on a notepad.

Realizing he was losing any participation of the discussion, Marcel sought to bring up his argument again. "But partnering with Mystic Bakery and other local shops can help us transition as something inevitable and useful to the neighborhood," he insisted. "At least let me approach a select few. If they are as reticent as Klaus assumes, then I back off. No harm, no foul, and we open as usual."

Elijah looked to Klaus, who suddenly seemed distracted with his phone and unconcerned with the conversation at hand. "Niklaus?"

"Sure," he replied distantly, standing abruptly.

Watching his younger brother leave as easily as he came, Elijah rubbed a hand over his face. "Be delicate in your inquiries," he ordered Marcel with a sigh. "I suppose it is time we give you some more responsibility around here, and I'm glad to see you're stepping up. If only Kol could be so inclined, or Niklaus so dedicated."

"Happy to help," Marcel said, holding back a smug smirk at the permission to execute his plan. "I'll keep you and Klaus updated on the progress."

The two shook on their deal, to which Klaus was completely oblivious. His phone had buzzed with a new message from BarbieBlonde, talking about a new theory she'd uncovered about Madame LaLaurie's house of horrors. Engrossed with her rapid fire texts, he easily left his friend and brother behind to do as they wished.

He had a bookstore to check out.

* * *

Cupcake decorating was infinitely more fun when Caroline got to eat the product of her hard work, but she did enjoy the gaggle of spectators that tended to gather outside the window when she was carefully petaling frosting flowers. Her favorites were the little kids that pulled at the supervising adult's arm, begging to go inside for pretty cupcakes. Forget the walkup window being a million-dollar idea, it was worth its cost in free advertising for the bakery.

Bridal showers certainly helped with her profit margin, too, the delicate chrysanthemums she was emulating costing Miss Elena Gilbert a small fortune for her society pre-wedding events. Keeping that in mind, Caroline was excruciatingly focused on the perfect details.

"Gorgeous!"

Frosting burst out of the piping bag, completely ruining the design. "Enzo! What the hell?" Her friend was unapologetically waiting in the doorway to the kitchen, which just made her angrier. "Seriously, what?"

"You've got a visitor," he answered, jerking his head back to the front counter. "I had no idea you were looking for a new boyfriend, but he certainly seems an improvement over that yuppie you keep around."

Caroline rolled her eyes, well used to Enzo's jokes about Tyler. Still, she picked up her ruined cupcake and followed him out to the shop, where a very attractive man was apparently waiting for her. "Hi, I'm Caroline. How can I help you today?"

The man gave a bright, charming smile. "It's nice to meet you, Caroline. My name is Marcel Gerard, and I'm actually here on behalf of Mikaelson Brews."

Immediately, Caroline snorted and turned to head back to the kitchen.

"No, wait!" Marcel called, drawing the attention of some curious customers. When Caroline paused in her retreat, he lowered his voice to a more mellow tone. "I'm sure you've heard of the new store we're opening on this block, and there's going to be a grand opening celebration that I wanted to personally invite other local businesses to participate in."

"How would that even work, mate?" Enzo asked, ignoring Caroline's arched eyebrow. He usually left the business side of things to her and Bonnie, but he did have a vested interest. "We provide free desserts outside so you can sell your own inside?"

Nodding, Caroline's eyes went wide. "Is it the hair? You think because I'm blonde, I must also be stupid?"

Marcel held his hands up defensively, his smile turning sheepish. "I think we got off on the wrong foot," he countered. "We wouldn't officially open for business during the celebration, free samples all around to promote becoming part of the neighborhood. To do that, we wanted to help promote the neighborhood itself. Is that really so bad?"

Caroline's scowl turned contemplative. "It's definitely optimistic."

"And that's pure sunshine saying that," Enzo muttered unhelpfully, for which he received a sharp elbow to the side. "Ouch, Gorgeous."

"I guess I can appreciate the offer," Caroline told Marcel, "but I don't think I want to be involved at this point in time. All I see is a national franchise trying to make money off us, and we deserve better than that."

Bowing slightly, Marcel's charm really went all out. "I understand, and please let me know if you change your mind." He passed her a business card. "I've heard great things about your place, and I think we'll be missing out."

She sighed, feeling bad that she was basically throwing this guy out. "Here," she said, handing over the ruined cupcake from earlier. "For wasting your time."

"Thanks," Marcel said, accepting the treat with a wink. "It was nice to meet you, Caroline."

Watching him go, Caroline frowned. "I'm not crazy, right?" she asked Enzo. "Like, it's the principle of the thing."

"I've learned better than to fight Caroline Forbes' principles," he replied. "I should get back on the register."

"Yeah!" Caroline called righteously, but he just smirked at her frustration. Muttering to herself, she fled to the kitchen, pulling the phone from her apron. It would be another few hours before Elena's aunt came to collect her cupcake order, and she felt more than deserving of a vent session.

BB: Why can't people just agree to disagree? I think I'm more than entitled to have my own opinion without worrying about other people judging me.

OH: Of course, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it?

Caroline's lips pulled into a reluctant smile at the way her pen-pal could read her better than those closest to her, and so quickly. OriginalHybrid didn't assume she wanted to share the details, he respected that sometimes she just needed to air her feelings. It was so thoughtful, she barely noticed the pet name.

While the intimacy should have made her uncomfortable, every "sweetheart" just reminded her that she already had a sweetheart of her own. Like she had told Bonnie, Caroline felt guilty that she might technically be cheating on Tyler; emotionally, sure, but cheating nonetheless. It was often why she immediately ended any conversation that felt too personal, especially when OriginalHybrid was liberal with the endearments.

Still, she needed the sounding board without getting bogged down in the details.

_**BB: My business might be threatened, and I seem to be the only one considering it a threat.** _

It was a risk, sharing something of her actual daily life with an otherwise perfect stranger. She bit her lip as she waited for his response.

**_OH: As an integral part to a successful business, I would say that you would be wise to trust your instincts._ **

Eyebrows raising, Caroline processed the new information: OriginalHybrid worked in the business world, too. Before she could craft an appropriately blasé reply, another message came through.

_**OH: Is this where I finally discover what business you're in?** _

_**BB: I don't think so, sneaky. For our own protection, remember?** _

_**OH: Living dangerous can be fun, love. However, I concede your point.** _

_**BB: Well thank you, oh kind one. Since you're so successful in business, what can I do to protect mine?** _

It took longer for him to respond, putting Caroline on edge. Maybe her confidence they could withstand Mikaelson Brews was naive and misplaced; worse, maybe she had made a huge mistake in turning down Marcel's offer of joining in the community's welcome. Her thoughts flew wildly until the familiar ding sounded.

_**OH: Fight. You fight me often enough, I can't help but believe that you're stubborn enough to accomplish anything you set your mind to.** _

Caroline smiled, tucking her phone back in her apron. She had cupcakes to decorate and a rediscovered strength she possessed. OriginalHybrid was completely right, and she would do anything to prove others wrong when it came to misjudging her.

Mystic Bakery was just getting started, and Mikaelson Brews wouldn't know what hit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of a filler chapter, but I'd love to hear what you think!


	4. And Baby When I'm Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

"Hey, babe," Tyler called from the bedroom.

"Yeah," Caroline yelled back, her voice thick with the toothpaste filling her mouth.

Leaning in the doorway to the bathroom, Tyler watched her spit with an indulgent smile. "I have to be at the event early tonight, so I won't be able to pick you up."

She blinked, searching for any recognition of whatever he was talking about. "The event?" she finally asked, annoyed that she had apparently missed an important calendar entry.

"My boss's campaign fundraiser," he explained, somewhat impatiently. "It's a formal gala at the Board of Trade."

"Formal?" Caroline's eyes flew wide, a familiar panic building within her. "Tyler, you've never mentioned a formal event happening this month. I know, because I would have had a dress, a hair appointment— Hell, I would have taken the day off."

Considering she was getting ready for the late morning shift, already having left Enzo to open hours earlier, Caroline was certain Tyler's plans had not been on her radar.

Tyler rolled his eyes, coming up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. "You have formal dresses," he pointed out, reaching up to tug at a loose curl. "And your hair looks great. It doesn't start until seven. Please, Care? I'm sure Bonnie and Enzo can keep the bakery running without you."

That wasn't the problem, and his pout probably meant that he knew it. Yet Caroline felt herself softening; she did always enjoy an opportunity to get fancy. "I guess I can see if my bridesmaid dress from Daddy's wedding still fits," she sighed.

Kissing her shoulder, Caroline could feel Tyler's smile against her skin. "You're amazing," he said, reaching up to kiss her cheek as well. "I've got to get to the office, but I'll have one of the assistants send you details for tonight."

Caroline watched him go, wondering if this was one of those things Bonnie had been talking about: looking for what was missing in their relationship and actually bringing it up to Tyler. "You could apologize, you know," she blurted out, catching him by surprise. "I mean, even though I can make tonight work, it's going to mean shuffling things around at the bakery. And it's last minute, which you know gives me hives."

"I'm sorry," Tyler implored, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. "I really thought I had told you about the fundraiser, but isn't this supposed to be a perk of running your own business? That you're the boss?"

"Running my own business means it lives or dies by my hard work," Caroline answered defensively. "I'm fortunate to have such great friends on staff, but I hate taking advantage of them. Which, by the way, I am doing by begging them to change their schedules for my benefit."

"If it's that big of a deal, then don't ask them to change their schedules. Just close the bakery for the night."

Caroline's mouth fell open. "I can't just close the shop whenever I want. Customers expect instant service anymore, and it's hard enough to manage their expectations by keeping to a solid routine," she explained. "This is my life, Tyler. I'm sorry I can't always be this perfect political wife you're always talking about, but Mystic Bakery has to be a priority for me."

"I know that," Tyler answered complacently, holding his hands up like she was an animal likely to attack. "But I like to think that I'm a priority, too. Us, and our future. Together."

Deflating, Caroline wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was something she found herself considering more and more often, but she never expected the conversation to come in her bathroom while she still had toothpaste on her lip.

Apparently not sensing her quiet contemplation, Tyler ran a hand through his hair. "I love you, Caroline," he said. It wasn't the first time, but the declaration suddenly seemed heavier to her. "I see us going all the way with this thing. The political wife might be a joke to you right now, but that's what I'm working towards. Working my way up through the city, making the jump to the Congressional seat with my super successful businesswoman of a wife, maybe selling the bakery once kids are in the picture, moving forward with our lives."

It sounded great, admittedly, but one part glaringly stood out to Caroline. "Selling Mystic Bakery isn't a dream of mine," she insisted, crossing her arms. "I started the company because I was good at it, but it's so much more than that now. It really is my life, and I want to be able to share it with my family one day. It's not a stepping stone to something you deem to be more grand."

"Care," Tyler sighed, finally realizing the depth of her concern. "I'm just talking here. The main point is that whatever future I'm planning, I want you to be a part of it. And that involves working my ass off for tonight's fundraising gala, which I fully support you using to network with New Orlean's rich and famous for the good of the bakery. You've gotten some good orders in the past from these events, right?"

Nodding, Caroline could finally breathe again since Tyler seemed to actually listen to her. "That's true," she said. Meeting him halfway seemed like the best course of action anyway, and she would take any silver lining she could get. "Seven, you said?"

Tyler smiled. His boyish grin was so cute, she almost forgot to be irritated with him. He pecked her lips before rushing out of the bathroom. "I'll be the one in the tux."

"Bye," she whispered, slumping onto the toilet when she heard her front door shut behind him.

The weight of Tyler's expectations had never been a struggle for her to bear before, but Caroline wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up if he continued to belittle the bakery as a side project. Honestly, she wasn't sure why he would want her to eventually sell it; he had jokingly pointed out that her connections in the New Orleans small business community were an attractive attribute when they first started dating. After the gala conversation, though, Caroline wondered if he hadn't been joking.

For sure, the bakery was more than the hobby he seemed to think it was. Mystic Bakery was her career. Every spare penny and minute she had went to running the place, promoting it, or looking for new opportunities to make it even better.

Even if Tyler didn't understand that, Caroline knew someone who would.

_**BB: Balance is important, I know, but I think it's also important to accept that my career can be a priority. Is that wrong?** _

_**OH: Not at all, though I'm likely not the best to ask about balance. My career has always taken precedence over my personal life. I've been told I might be doing it wrong.** _

_**OH: I can't imagine you'll share the details of what prompted this question. However, I believe you can feel if you're not getting the balance right. It might not be obvious or detrimental, but something just won't sit right with you.** _

_**BB: This is just another "trust your gut" speech.** _

_**OH: Maybe so. Is it working?** _

_**BB: I don't know.** _

She might have begun rambling to expand on her uncertainty, but the time caught her eye before she could fall down that rabbit hole. Enzo would be expecting her to take over within the hour, and she still had some begging to do to make sure the bakery was covered during the gala.

"Now, what did I do with that dress?"

* * *

Walking down the street, Caroline found herself needing to kill an hour before the hair appointment she had wrangled at the salon. Her plan had been to keep her afternoon shift at the bakery, but Bonnie and Davina promised they had it covered. Bonnie even said she and Enzo would cover the late night window.

"You deserve a night off," she had shrugged. "Enjoy yourself a bit. Give you and Tyler the date you guys probably need." With a meaningful look, Bonnie had all but shoved her out the door. "Figure your shit out, Forbes!"

Caroline sighed, unsure what to do with her unexpected free time. She was too far away from the best museums for her geek fix, and a manicure could be done at the same time as her hair. Her coffee from the bakery was still reasonably warm, and she wasn't really hungry. She could have whiled away the time talking to OriginalHybrid, but that meant diving into the big topics she had brought up earlier.

A free hour was nice, but it was nowhere near enough time for that kind of heavy thinking.

Glancing to her left, however, she found the perfect distraction. The Shop Around the Corner was a quaint little bookstore just a few blocks from the bakery, and the rich aroma of coffee and cedar bookshelves welcomed her. Caroline had worried her recommendation to OriginalHybrid would seem like too much, but she couldn't help it; the place was just wonderful.

"Hey, Caroline," the shopkeeper called. "It's good to see you again."

"Hi, Kathleen!" Caroline waved, bypassing the register to head straight to the occult section that had caught her attention the last time she visited. Familiar titles comforted her just as new subjects caught her eye, though they were quickly overcome by the attractive man browsing the nearby art section. More surprising was the fact that Caroline recognized him. "Oh, hello. Nik, right?"

He turned, his smirk falling at the sight of her. "Caroline," he remembered. "From the charming Mystic Bakery."

"Well, thank you," she answered, batting her eyelashes teasingly. "I see you really are getting to know the neighborhood. This is a great store."

"It was recommended to me by a friend." He seemed to hesitate, moving closer to the art shelves. "They have an excellent selection of works, I'm quite impressed."

About to gush on her own impressions of her favorite section, Caroline momentarily forgot to keep the occult fascination to herself. Tyler's public position and her growing popularity made weird hobbies dangerous for a reputation; for Caroline, that meant containing her passion for the supernatural to anonymous message boards - and probably away from pretty men in bookstores. "Um, yeah," she finally responded. Flipping her head around, she sighed in relief at another nearby section. "They have some great baking cookbooks. So, you like art?"

Regaining his smirk, Nik rubbed as his lower lip. "I've dabbled here and there, and I can appreciate the masters."

"Can you?" Caroline raised an eyebrow at the smugness in his expression, somehow not entirely off-putting on him. "I've never really gotten past the 'I guess that's pretty' stage in my art appreciation."

Nik smiled more genuinely that time. "Aesthetic value is important, and I'm sure you're a fine judge of it," he said quietly.

"Charmer," she accused, much to his apparent amusement.

Before he could respond, however, his phone dinged with a notification. He deflated as soon as he read the incoming text message. "Apologies, love," he said, backing away. "It appears I'm needed elsewhere. I was unaware I had plans tonight."

Caroline nodded in commiseration. "I'm actually on my way to the salon, preparing for my own surprise plans," she explained, waving him off. "It was nice to see you."

"Likewise."

Watching him go, Caroline couldn't stop smiling. She just blamed it on the freedom she had to explore the occult section like she intended, without the charming audience to her secret hobby. Like Nik visited the store on the recommendation of a friend, she idly wondered if OriginalHybrid had managed to do the same.

* * *

Klaus returned home, agitated at Cami's text asking him to please take her to the mayor's fundraiser that night. He vaguely remembered Elijah demanding his presence at the event, too formal for his tastes. When that didn't work, Elijah apparently enlisted his wife to do his dirty work for him.

"Hayley was downplaying it at lunch," Cami explained as she finished with her makeup, "but I know it's really important to Elijah that we're there tonight. I had your tux pressed and everything. All you have to do is get dressed."

Sighing, Klaus tried not to let his irritation show; it was hardly Cami's fault that Elijah was a wanker. He would have put up more of a fuss, but she looked so excited to be wearing the dark blue gown that swished around her ankles. "You look nice," he said softly.

He ought to have been happy, proud even, to be taking his beautiful girlfriend out on the town. An inkling of shame rose in his cheeks as he turned away from her, a part of him wanting more than anything to go back to that bookstore for another diverting hour. If only he hadn't run into the bakery owner, then Klaus might have been able to check out the occult section BarbieBlonde recommended.

Caroline, that was the bakery owner's name.

His interest in the supernatural, particularly werewolves, was a closely guarded secret in his life. Even his siblings thought he left the obsession behind, a comic book project that died in high school. Though Kol still ribbed him at times, it was nothing more than a passing joke — hardly an attack on the active passion they didn't know it was. Especially as Klaus took on more of a public role with the company, he tended to play his cards closer to the vest. When he recognized Caroline in the bookstore, he was just grateful the art section was nearby.

What he didn't expect was for the conversation to be as engaging as it was anyway. Klaus could blame his actual artistic personality; after all, he had just peeked in on his studio up the block before making it to The Shop Around the Corner. As he stripped off his clothes to change, however, his mind kept drifting to the pretty blonde who had been so friendly to an utter stranger. Common courtesy was rare in Klaus's life since he began focusing on the family business.

Adjusting his bowtie, his hand twitched with the urge to draw her sunny smile for no other reason than to say hello.

It was a far cry from the fake smiles plastered all over the gala Cami had all but dragged him to on Elijah's request. Barely there five minutes, and several of the mayor's cronies had already hinted at making a larger donation.

"I see Hayley," Cami said, tugging Klaus along to join Elijah and Hayley near their designated table. They were speaking to a young man, though Klaus could recognize his brother's patience drawing thin at the conversation. Whether she sensed it or not, Cami broke the tension by greeting Hayley with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, we made it!"

"I'm glad," Hayley drawled, apparently uncomfortable for some reason. "This is Tyler Lockwood, a staffer in the mayor's office. I've worked with him on some of the campaign events Elijah hosts in the city. Ty, I'm not sure if you've met my brother-in-law Klaus or his girlfriend, Camille."

"Another Mikaelson," the man greeted with a charming grin, reaching for a handshake. "Very nice to meet you, I was just trying to talk your brother into partnering with the city's healthy living campaign. Mikaelson Brews has a killer green tea we'd love to promote."

Klaus nodded, not really paying attention to the eager puppy with a sales pitch. It never failed to bore him, which is why he tried to avoid these events when he could. He only really cared about parties when he was the guest of honor, not the main course to be served. "I'm going to the bar," he told Cami, already pulling away from the group. The open bar, at least, was a perk of coming to these things.

"Martini with a twist," she replied automatically.

He felt lighter as he walked away, breathing more easily without having to police his expression. It was an old, family lesson to keep thoughts to themselves, not to let them show. Truly, they just became better at reading each other because of it. Elijah's annoyance showed with a brief tic of his upper lip, a hardened stare. Klaus allowed himself a smirk as he approached the bar. "Martini with a twist and a scotch, please."

"Can I get another gin and tonic?"

Turning to the familiar voice, Klaus's mouth fell open in surprise. "Hello, Caroline."

She faced him with a jerk of her head, as though in shock at being greeted. Her artful ponytail whipped behind her at the motion, a blur of blonde curls sweeping against the bare skin of her back. "Oh, hi again," she smiled. "I wasn't expecting many friendly faces tonight, I'm glad I was wrong."

"I can't imagine you're not able to make a few friends," he couldn't help but flirt, leaning against the bar. "Especially in that dress."

Blushing, Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Charmer," she accused again. Her hands smoothed down her thighs, the golden silk shimmering in the low lights of the ballroom. "Want to know a secret?"

Klaus smiled, her unprecedented openness never ceased to amaze him. "Always."

"I actually wore this for my dad's wedding last year," she whispered dramatically. Grinning, she accepted her drink from the bartender. "I was lucky it still fit, because it's the only formal thing I have in my closet right now."

"Well," Klaus said, leaning in toward her, "you look beautiful."

"Thanks, Nik," she answered easily, missing his small look of uncertainty. Whatever she might have said next was cut off when the bartender placed two drinks in front of him, obviously implying he had a date. "Oh," she sighed.

For some reason, Klaus found himself wanting to soothe her disappointed expression, to quell the accompanying disappointment in his own chest. Irrational and ridiculous as the thought was, he actually wanted to apologize for coming to the gala with someone else — for having to leave her at the bar so he could get back to his girlfriend.

Shaking his head, Klaus needed to get away from the confusing presence Caroline had briefly become in his life. About to make excuses, the young Tyler Lockwood joined them at the bar. Klaus rolled his eyes at the pup's persistence, but he froze when the man threw an arm around Caroline's shoulders.

"Hey, babe," he said, kissing her cheek. He picked up her drink for a swallow. "Ugh, I don't know how you drink these things."

Caroline coughed delicately, peering around Tyler to keep Klaus in the conversation. "This is my boyfriend, Tyler Lockwood. Tyler, this—"

"Klaus Mikaelson," Tyler finished for her. "We met when I was paying respects to his brother."

Clenching his fists at the boyishly pompous tone, Klaus remembered a now confusing part of that conversation. "Yes, where you were trying to persuade us to allow a Mikaelson Brews partnership for some city event. Our green tea is killer, you said? I would think you'd prefer to offer such an opportunity to Caroline's bakery, as she's so devoted to the city herself."

Tyler seemed confused, like he didn't even consider it. For her part, Caroline just threw Klaus an irritated glance. "Mystic Bakery is happy to help the city in any way we can," she said in a taut voice. "For now, that's volunteering for block cleanup, sponsoring a couple of kids' sports teams, and serving our customers kickass treats. If Mikaelson Brews wants to throw its money on a lame promotion effort, then go right ahead." Her arms even crossed during her rant, and Klaus fought a smile until a streak of recognition lit her face. "Wait, Klaus Mikaelson?"

His burgeoning smirk fell at the severe frown Caroline sent him. He wondered at the change, until he remembered her little diatribe against the family business. Worse, her expression held a hint of something he often refused to forgive: betrayal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So...thoughts?


	5. Close Your Eyes and You Can See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

"You said your name was Nik."

"Now, swee—"

"You two know each other?"

Their staring match was broken, both turning to a curious Tyler. Klaus quirked an eyebrow to Caroline, silently asking her to explain the connection. "Um, he came to the window a few nights ago, I thought he was a customer."

Klaus reared back in confusion. "I was a customer," he defended.

"No," Caroline snapped. "You were casing the neighborhood before Mikaelson Brews came to steal business."

Running his tongue across his lower lip, Klaus gave into an evil smile. "Because that's what we are, aren't we? The big company out to crush the competition."

"If the black hat fits," Caroline scoffed, taking a drink of her gin. It was like she was gearing up for a fight, and Klaus genuinely wanted to see how it played out. Something about her righteous anger was just adorable. "Did you even eat that brownie I sold you?"

"It was delicious," he answered with a shrug. "I'm curious, love. Does that make it better or worse for you?"

"God, the nerve," she muttered, more to herself than to him or her bystander boyfriend. "And you let me just go on and on about how I wanted to protect my neighborhood from becoming something it's not, about how worried I was for friends with other shops."

"But not Mystic Bakery," Klaus challenged as he stepped closer. "Your confidence is to be admired, I'll give you that."

Caroline's chest heaved with the force of her sigh. "Thank you so much for your admiration," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Your arrogance leaves much to be desired, however. Though, I don't know what I expected from a Mikaelson."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Klaus wanted to lash out. He knew the business numbers of her precious neighborhood inside and out, and he felt the impulse bubbling up his throat to chip away at the stubborn pride of hers, to denigrate every measly week's sales that paled in comparison to a single Mikaelson Brews branch.

He could picture Caroline's reaction, her apparent inability to hide any emotion that flit through her head. Her mouth would fall slack, perhaps she'd blink one too many times. The pin straight posture would slump as the words hit. Unable to keep his gaze, her eyes would drop, downcast to brush her eyelashes against cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Well-placed blows would certainly take the fight out of the ugly conversation she seemed intent on having.

But he couldn't do it; something held him back.

Rather than hitting too close to the truth, Klaus chose the hopefully more irritating path. "Good looks, witty banter," he teased with just a hint of venom. He added a wink just for fun. "Charming manners."

Despite the exact picture he had in his head of tearing this woman down, Caroline was apparently not to be cowed. Her eyes flashed in anger, and Klaus's smile only widened. "Charming," she scoffed, clearly remembering her earlier accusations of his charm. "I suppose everyone deserves a chance to learn from their mistakes. A pretty smile means nothing if it comes with a malicious bite."

"Have you been reading vampire books, love?" he asked, unwittingly letting his own fascination color the conversation for some reason. "No fangs here, I promise."

Caroline shook her head derisively. "Nope, just a corporation sucking the community dry."

"Care," Tyler finally broke in, placing a heavy hand around her waist. "Businesses are good for the community, you know that." She opened her mouth to respond, but he just talked over her. "I'm sure the Mikaelsons will do great things with this new store."

Feeling something like horror, Klaus watched as Caroline deflated into the exact image he had pictured just moments earlier. She gripped her glass, leaning into her boyfriend's side. The quiet didn't suit her, and Klaus realized his fists were clenched tight with uncertainty of what he wanted to do with them.

"There you are," Cami said, joining the group. She reached for her martini, gone a bit warm in his delay. "Is that for me?"

"Oh, Cami," Tyler said, lighting up for the obvious change in topic. "This is my girlfriend, Caroline."

"Caroline Forbes," she added with a small wave. "Your dress is great."

"Thanks," Cami preened, slipping her hand into Klaus's arm. "I love yours, the gold is striking. Tyler was just telling us about the Mikaelson Brews promotion he wants to coordinate with the city. Even at a party, business is never over, is it?"

While Klaus heard the reprimand for what it was, for leaving his girlfriend to talk about the family business when she wasn't even part of the family, he was interested at the odd look in Caroline's eyes.

"Are you a Mikaelson, too?"

Having just taken a sip of his drink, Klaus fought the slight choke he felt at her seemingly innocent question. It was one that came more often than not anymore, especially if Elijah was in a mood to settle his siblings down. Still, it sounded odd in Caroline's chipper voice. Worse, he didn't think he was imagining the curt accusation in her tone.

"No," he answered with finality, setting down his now empty glass. "Cami is only another victim of the evil corporate culture that the Mikaelson Group inflicts upon all of New Orleans."

Cami forced a laugh, smiling at Tyler. "I think I missed something."

"Caroline's become something of a crusader for local business," Tyler explained dismissively. "She owns a bakery near the new Mikaelson Brews."

"Oh!" Cami had perked right up. "Klaus mentioned a late-night bakery. He didn't even bring me home a bite, said it was too good to share."

Bristling, Klaus didn't want to call out Cami for the slight exaggeration, despite Caroline's triumphant expression. "Not that it matters," he bit out instead, meeting Caroline's gaze straight on. "After all, Mikaelson Brews is out to destroy the competition."

Caroline's eyebrow quirked up at the challenge, and she set her drink down on the bar. "We're not the competition," she replied, rather softly in the growing noise of the party. "I operate with creativity and service, I've built a real family business where we pour all of our love into the shop. The day Mikaelson Brews does that in my neighborhood, then maybe I'll be scared."

Turning to Tyler, she pressed a kiss into his cheek. "I should go, I've got an early morning," she whispered in his ear, though Klaus noticed her glance toward him as well. "It was nice to meet you, Cami. Goodbye, Nik."

Cami's head jerked to Klaus as Caroline turned on her heel to leave, the curls of her ponytail swaying against the drooped silk baring her spine. "Why did she call you Nik?"

"That's what she knows me as," Klaus answered in a bored voice, though he still tracked the other woman's movements through the party. "I was out with Kol and Bekah, you know." They were the only two allowed to call him Nik, a remnant from childhood. It was an old struggle with Cami, that she would never have quite the intimate relationship with him she wanted if she couldn't even use the same name as those he loved best in the world. Her disappointed expression conveyed exactly what she thought of him allowing a perfect stranger the same liberties he denied her.

So what if he never bothered to correct Caroline on his name? It didn't have to mean anything. Klaus knew that it didn't.

Looking between them, Tyler must have noticed the tension. "Sorry about that, Care opens the bakery at ungodly hours," he sheepishly explained. "So, about that partnership—"

"Can I get a refill?" Klaus turned his belly to the bar, completely bored with the conversation Tyler had tried to start yet again. He glanced over to his girlfriend. "I think I'm going to stay here for a while."

Shooting him a look indulgent of his immaturity, Cami just rolled her eyes. "Come on, Tyler," she said affably enough. "You should join our table. Hayley's told me so much about you, and I'd love to hear more about the work you've done together."

Klaus pursed his mouth; he would be paying for this later. Cami would smooth over his rudeness with Elijah, but there was always a price to pay, some personal tidbit she had yet to analyze for his betterment. As he downed another scotch, he tried to find comfort in being numb — anything to soothe the itch in his hand to draw the particular curl of Caroline's ponytail as she walked away.

* * *

Still agitated, Caroline jerkily removed her earrings as she mourned her fabulous look in the mirror. She loved this dress, and she hated that she wasted it on such a terrible night. Her ponytail was comfortable enough that she could sleep in it; hopefully, she would be able to salvage some of its bounciness for the next day.

She had wanted to stop by the bakery on her way home, but the safety of her kitchen would have its greatest effect in the quiet morning before open. Going home to her empty apartment, however, just served to irritate her more. Tyler was bugging the hell out of her for focusing too much on her business, when all he was focused on were the rivals she had been complaining about.

"Infuriating," she muttered to herself, methodically removing her makeup. "Charming, my ass."

Fuming, Caroline only sighed painfully as her hands dragged up the silk of her dress. She really did love it. Gently raising it over her head, she carefully placed it back inside its garment bag before tucking it safely back into her closet. Putting on her comfiest pajamas instead, she cozied up to her laptop in bed.

As though he knew she would need a friend, an email from OriginalHybrid tempted from her inbox.

**_I don't know about a vacation, but I'm sure I could find an hour to explore The Shop Around the Corner. I don't usually take recommendations to heart, but yours are hard to resist, sweetheart. — OH_ **

She found herself smiling until the final endearment. "Ugh, what is it with all the pet names?" she asked no one in particular, only remembering the ass that helped to ruin her night. Nik or Klaus, whoever the hell he really was, earned a spot at the top of her shit list. For a horrifying moment, she wondered if he might be OriginalHybrid in a less appealing fashion.

Luckily, she was able to dismiss the thought as quickly as it came. That would just be too ridiculous of a coincidence; her life was not a movie, let alone a horror story about her mystery pen pal revealed to be her worst nightmare.

Shaking herself clear of those troubling scenarios, Caroline figured she could at least vent to OriginalHybrid. Maybe it was the detached nature of electronic communication, but he always seemed to understand her more than others when she was upset. With Bonnie working to cover her shift, OriginalHybrid was a pretty good best friend substitute.

I hope you do, because my recommendations are pretty great. I'll be glad to finally have someone listen to me. Can I just say how unfair it is that no one really wants me to talk? Call it a pity party, but every time I get a little passionate or upset, it's like the end of the world. God forbid I express an opinion, or else I become the bad guy.

_**When did I become the bad guy? — BB** _

Unlike messaging, their email conversations often lagged at a slower rate. Caroline was surprised, then, when her Mail app signaled a new message just as soon as she had logged into the Society page.

_**Good timing, love. I could tell you a thing or two about being the bad guy. I'm alone at a bar because of it. — OH** _

Smiling at the commiserating tone, Caroline switched to their private chatroom.

_**BB: Uh oh, alone at a bar seems like a recipe for trouble if you're the bad guy.** _

_**OH: No better place to be, if you ask me. Come on then, tell me your troubles. Maybe I'll get the bartender to chime in with any sage advice.** _

_**BB: I just hate feeling crazy for defending myself. It's like my brain runs wild with everything I want to scream at the moment, but I choose the high road as best I can. Kill them with kindness, ruthlessly. And still, I get shushed. It's embarrassing.** _

_**OH: Pride is a good thing. It means you care, not that I'm sure anyone could accuse you of not.** _

_**BB: But my pride comes from my business. If I don't speak up when it's in trouble, then what's the point?** _

_**OH: The point is to fight. Always. As soon as you give up, even just a flinch, you've already lost.** _

Caroline mulled that over, wondering what more she could do to protect Mystic Bakery. They did well with their customer service and daily sales, Bonnie said their social media activity trended positively, and Davina was always pushing the word of mouth at her school. How could their small efforts compete against a national brand, especially in the Mikaelsons' own backyard?

_**BB: Hey, I'm sure David did more than flinch when he first saw Goliath as his competition.** _

_**OH: Then he picked up the simplest weapon. In the right hands, it makes all the difference. You just have to find your weapon.** _

Like a lightning bolt, it struck Caroline. The community was her weapon! Mikaelson Brews might come, but the community could band together and devote themselves to building each other up.

_**BB: You're brilliant, you know that?** _

_**OH: It's a curse.** _

The starkness of his message hurt her heart in an unexpected way. Perhaps it was just a throwaway comment, but it didn't have the ring of humor she was used to hearing in his admittedly imagined voice. Figuring she owed him one, Caroline wanted to inject a bit of optimism into his night, too.

_**BB: Don't let it bring you down. I'm sure your bartender could pour you a nice drink to forget about any curses, then you can help me pick apart New Orleans fact and fiction in that new TV show. I really want to see if their theories about the Axe Man fly.** _

_**OH: Unfortunately, I'm unable to leave my current engagement. You'll have to keep me posted on any findings you discover.** _

Pouting, Caroline put her laptop away in favor of her trusty notepad. If she was going to plan a community protection plan, she needed to start a list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's a bit shorter than the rest, but I hope you enjoyed the reaction! I will warn you that this is the last of the chapters I had already written, so the updates might be slowing down. Keep me honest, though! I'm going to need the help pushing through the pain of writing. Thanks for reading!


	6. When You're Feeling Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

"I know it's ambitious," Caroline admitted, clutching the clipboard to her chest. "With a little support and a lot of love, though, we can really send a signal that we matter to this community. We may not have trendy brand recognition or status, but we're special, too."

The room was quiet, not quite the thunderous applause she expected when practicing her speech in the mirror that morning. She had gone to the area businesses, personally inviting them to discuss the Mikaelson Brews impact they could expect in the coming months. She was sure the tourists would prefer an established, familiar name and that locals would gravitate toward lower costs. Her fellow businesspeople seemed less than convinced.

"This hardly affects me," Genevieve pointed out. She owned a New Age shop that Caroline often trolled for historical tidbits and healing crystals for Bonnie's homeopathic collection. "My customers are loyal."

Shaking her head, Caroline double-checked her clipboard. "But you sell spiritual tea blends," she noted. "What if Mikaelson Brews decides to expand their current line to attract your customers?"

The yuppy who ran a tourist gift shop just snorted. "Then they attract her customers. That's the business world, babe."

"Sure," Caroline scoffed in return. "Then, I assume you won't mind that their store will be tailored to New Orleans in their merchandising, all the way down to mugs and tote bags. You know, like the mugs and tote bags that make up about twenty percent of your inventory."

He shifted in discomfort, though he didn't drop his otherwise unconcerned gaze.

Frustrated, Caroline threw her clipboard onto the counter behind her where Bonnie just watched with a sad expression. "Do you all even care?" she asked, incredulous. "I love Mystic Bakery, and I want to do everything I can to protect it."

"I'm sure you're fine, Caroline," April said, a sweet girl who ran the Christian bookstore. She patted the blonde's hand kindly. "You make delicious treats, and no one wants to see the bakery close. Mikaelson Brews isn't the problem you think it is."

With that, everyone grumbled as they pushed to their feet. They filed out the door, leaving Caroline to watch them go. "Seriously?"

"Come on," Bonnie said encouragingly, though it sounded weak to Caroline's ears. "Maybe they're right, and things won't be as bad as you think."

"Mikaelson Brews is opening in less than a month," she sighed, drooping against the counter. The empty tables around her was like a bad vision of her darkest timeline. "What if they ruin everything I love about this place? Our customers are the best, from the weekly lunch dates to the drunken revelers, they love what we do. But I don't know if it's going to be enough when there's a fancy, schmancy Mikaelson Brews just up the road."

Coming from the kitchen, Enzo threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be depressing, gorgeous," he said. "Bonnie, love, you're the numbers girl. Do we have anything to worry about?"

Bonnie's eyes went wide before narrowing into a glare she directed at her boyfriend.

"Nope!" Caroline held up a finger when her friend pursed her mouth shut. "Tell me the truth, Bonnie. I know you've been running projection scenarios behind my back. What's the damage?"

"I- I'd rather not speculate."

"Bonnie!"

Blowing out a slow breath, she picked up one of the cupcakes Caroline had put out for the meeting. "Worst case scenario," she sighed, handing over the cupcake, "you might have to make some budget cut decisions you're not going to like. Adding decorating fees more than you already charge. Maybe downsizing back to just your batch orders."

"Cutting out the storefront?" Caroline asked, disheartened. "We've finally gotten it running smoothly. Expanding to the late-night window was a great move forward, and now you want me to move back? I can't do it. I won't."

Enzo ducked back into the kitchen, knowing Bonnie had been building toward this conversation ever since Caroline's first Mikaelson Brews-related freakout. The tough love route wasn't her favorite, but he figured Bonnie was ready to broach the "play it safe" business plan with her best friend. Considering the blonde's penchant for dramatics, that plan was best shared in the privacy of the otherwise empty shop.

"Care," she sighed, settling them both onto barstools. "The bakery has been doing really well, and even our growing pains didn't hurt that much."

Furrowing her brow, Caroline ran a finger through the cupcake frosting. She could hear the unspoken word, clear as day. "But?"

"However," Bonnie said contrarily, "scaling back doesn't mean you're moving backward. Call it a preventative measure, if that makes you feel better. Cutting costs in anticipation of lean times might help us avoid the lean times altogether. And it wouldn't be forever, just until the Mikaelson Brews addition shakes out and the neighborhood finds its new normal."

Caroline munched on the cupcake in thought. When she spoke, though, her voice was small and scared. "Real talk, Bon. Are we going to be in trouble?"

"I don't think so," she answered, adamant. "Mystic Bakery is unique enough for a personality, but it's nothing that can't compete with other New Orleans bakeries. I won't lie, there will be a few odd months where Mikaelson Brews will definitely affect our sales. Still, they're a cafe that also sells pastries and we're a bakery that also sells coffee. That's not an insurmountable overlap, so I think we'll be just fine."

Like a weight was lifted from her, Caroline sighed in some relief. "Thank you. Have I told you lately how much I love that you're my business partner?"

"No," Bonnie pouted, wrapping her friend in a hug. "But I forgive you."

Pouting herself, Caroline pulled away to look at her clipboard. "Where do we go from here, Bon?" she asked dejectedly. "Here I was hoping to rally the troops, and they don't even care."

Bonnie shrugged. "I guess find a way to make them care," she suggested, making her way back to the kitchen. "I'm going to help Enzo clean up."

"I'm supposed to close," Caroline reminded her. The only reason they were still open was to host the neighborhood meeting, which apparently hadn't been worth the trouble. Late afternoons to early evenings were the only time the bakery and its workers got a rest, and she hated to take that away from Bonnie and Enzo.

"We've got it, gorgeous," Enzo called from the kitchen.

Laughing, Bonnie nodded. "Don't worry about us, we've got the late night shift anyway," she insisted. "You should take the night to focus on you and what you want to do. Start fresh tomorrow."

Caroline took the order to heart, and she made so many pro-con lists that bullet points swam on the page. Hours later, she was no closer to making any decisions. She knew where Bonnie and Enzo stood, Tyler was too busy at work to join her for a soul-searching dinner, and her dad had refused to give her anything more than support for whatever she planned.

It was sweet and completely irritating.

Bill Forbes was the one to encourage Caroline to really make a go of the bakery in the first place. He and his partner Stephen basically funded her apartment's industrial kitchen before she expanded to the storefront, only recently letting her pay them back by making their wedding cake a year earlier. Always the overachiever, he raised Caroline to be the same and helping her in any way he could — even if the best way to help her was to just butt out.

Sighing, Caroline pulled out her phone to play the video she always used when facing a tough decision. Liz Forbes had a better grasp on the tough love concept; while her ex-husband focused on results, she demanded that Caroline achieve those results in the right way.

Tired and worn in the video, her mother's expression was no less fierce with the oxygen line obscuring part of her face. "Baby, you're going to do so much with your life, and I hate that I won't be there for you every step of the way. I love you so much—" Liz coughed, looking past the camera to where a crying Caroline had been filming her mother's enduring encouragement. "I love you so much, and you can do anything you set your mind to. I only ask that whatever you do, do it well. Do it right."

Caroline ran her thumb over the same words she had inked into her wrist, Liz's voice ringing in her head. "Fuck cancer," she muttered, like she always did whenever she watched the video.

Knowing she needed to protect her business, Caroline was at a loss for how to go about that. All she knew of Liz's opinion was that she do it in such a way that she could live with herself afterward, when the dust settled and her lot was cast. She had thought doing it right meant engaging the neighborhood, turning it into a group effort against Mikaelson Brews. Since that didn't work, Caroline was officially out of ideas.

She stared at her phone, turning to the one person she had yet to ask. Honestly, he would have been the first, if only the idea of using him for her own success didn't make her stomach sick. Any way she looked at it, asking OriginalHybrid for business advice was just a step too far for their friendly relationship; it made their connection seem more real, for her to seek and accept his perspective before making her own decision. She considered him a friend, sure, but this was taking their easy conversations to another level with real life implications.

It didn't help that she heard Bonnie's voice in her head, accusing her of replacing Tyler with a cyber buddy yet again, only this time for something more substantial than a secret hobby. The twinge of reluctant agreement was soon overcome by her need to hear his thoughts on the matter. She needed help.

_**BB: Remember when you told me to find the right weapon for my fight? I apparently picked the wrong one. I have no idea what I'm doing, and I don't have nearly the arsenal I thought I would. You mentioned running a successful business, and please let me know if I'm asking too much of our conversations, but… Any suggestions for better weapons I should be using?** _

Immediately putting her phone away, Caroline's face scrunched in wounded pride. When it came to Mystic Bakery, though, she didn't want that pride preventing her from the good of the business. Her dreams were worth the sacrifices she might have to make — the first being the wear on her patience as she waited for OriginalHybrid to respond.

By the time Caroline awoke early the next morning, he did have an answer to her admittedly desperate message.

_**OH: Business is ruthless, love. Mine is large enough to crush most of the competition without much effort. When you lack that advantage, it's best to find a larger ally in your fight. What's larger than the weapon you had planned?** _

Biting her lip, Caroline considered his words carefully. She had tried to rally the neighborhood behind her cause, so she needed a bigger ally. Pulling out her pro-con lists from the night before, she turned the pad to a fresh page. "I can start with the Chamber of Commerce…"

* * *

Nearly a week since the gala, and Klaus was still feeling the cold shoulder from his older brother. Sitting across the desk, he could almost see the chill between them in Elijah's frosty gaze. "I don't know what you expected from me, honestly."

Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. "I expected you to be an adult, Niklaus," he explained tersely. "Kol and Rebekah might have the benefit of avoiding the responsibilities of this family, but you agreed to join the company. That means representing it in all you do; and drinking at the bar all night, ignoring polite conversation with colleagues and acquaintances, it was entirely disrespectful of our status in this city."

"Understood," Klaus answered in a glib voice. "Did you only call me in to berate me yet again for my behavior? I was meant to meet Marcel at the work site."

A rare fury showing in Elijah's expression, whatever he might have said was cut off by a knock at the door. "Excuse me," Gia said, poking her head in without waiting for an answer. Elijah's secretary was blunt and efficient, preferring to ask forgiveness for interrupting than permission. "Tyler Lockwood is here for his appointment."

"The little puppy from the mayor's office?" Klaus leaned forward. "Why are you giving him the time of day?"

Rubbing at his temple, Elijah stood with a sigh as he adjusted his suit jacket. "Hayley seems intent on supporting the mayor's health campaign. She had the young man added to my schedule, and some of us care about the desires of our significant others."

Klaus rolled his eyes at the dig. "I never cared about your significant other," he joked, "not even when we were—" He stopped himself from the uncouth ending of that thought, wincing at the cold look on Elijah's face.

Though really, one should have developed a thicker skin after marrying the ex-fuckbuddy of a sibling.

"Your dalliance with Hayley during your liquor-fueled college years is not a weapon to hold over my head whenever you're dissatisfied with your own life," Elijah warned in a low voice. "I'm sorry your gallery failed, no doubt due to your ego, and that you feel stuck working here. However, I refuse to be the villain of your story for daring to lend a hand to my brother in his time of need. You were the one to accept the offer, and I will not apologize for sharing in our family's success."

"That's not—"

"What you meant?" The acidic question landed on Klaus's ear like a whiplash. "That's what I heard, Niklaus. If you don't want to be an adult in this conversation, then perhaps you should reconsider your role in Mikaelson Brews."

Dropping his head, Klaus felt the fight leave him. He was so busy defending his worst impulses, Klaus forgot what it was like to really hear the truth. "I have," he admitted. Glancing up, though, he met Elijah's eyes fearlessly. "That's why I wanted this new store. It's not my gallery, but it can still be mine — in a way."

Elijah softened, nodding toward the door. "You should keep your meeting with Marcel. But remember, Niklaus: you made me a promise to be a partner in this company. Your word ought to be worth something."

"Then I should stay," he countered as he pulled out his phone. "Let's hear what the puppy has to say, I can meet with Marcel later on." At Elijah's disbelief, he scoffed. "He was one I ignored at the gala, correct? It's only fair I make up for my poor manners that night."

"I suppose it's a start," Elijah acquiesced before adopting a polite smile for the guest Gia showed into his office. "Mr. Lockwood, please come in," he greeted, shaking Tyler's hand. "You remember my brother."

"Klaus Mikaelson," Tyler said, eagerly reaching for Klaus's hand as well. "I had no idea I was getting to speak with both of you. Hay— Mrs. Mikaelson mentioned she could only promise a few moments of face time with— Anyway, it's an honor and I thank you both for meeting me."

Coughing delicately, Elijah gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. Tyler quickly took the hint, though Klaus only leaned against the dark wood of the imposing furniture. "My wife speaks highly of your work with the mayor, and I'm happy to oblige."

"I appreciate that," Tyler noted. "It's nice to see a couple who works so well together, as partners."

Elijah watched him shrewdly. "To be honest, Hayley rarely involves herself with the business," he explained. "I tend to take notice when she's particularly passionate about some aspect of it. This sponsorship opportunity, for example."

"The bakery owner," Klaus added, surprising the other men and even himself. "Are you not partners in the same vein with your girlfriend and her successful business?"

And it was successful in its own right, as Klaus had taken another look at the numbers he had on Mystic Bakery since his enlightening conversation with Miss Caroline Forbes. The profit margins were slim and the staff too well paid for an outfit of their small stature, but he hadn't considered the positives going for them. Kitchen equipment was owned outright, not leased as he expected. Even the building was already mortgaged and well on its way to equity under Caroline's name.

He was impressed, to say the least.

"The bakery is her thing," Tyler shrugged. "And I wish she would stop pushing this media war she's launching against you guys. It's pretty embarrassing to defend myself at the office from whatever interviews she managed to land."

Klaus frowned. Not one to show his ignorance, though, he merely glanced toward Elijah who seemed better informed than he.

"As charming as I'm sure Miss Forbes is," Elijah said diplomatically, "she's hardly working the press into a state about the plight of small business in the wake of Mikaelson Brews. For every negative mention she gets, we have at least three positive ones in the same paper. Our communications staff remains unconcerned, as do I."

Tyler nodded solemnly. "Sure, yeah, I didn't mean to suggest she was actually doing damage," he explained, his speech rushed like he wasn't being careful with his words. "Caroline's just way too invested with the bakery. With my career set to take off in the next few years, I was hoping to be further on the marriage path with her, so we could be established before moving on to Baton Rouge or even Washington."

Raising his eyebrows at the overshare, Klaus couldn't help but want to laugh. It seemed the puppy was adept at digging holes for himself. He might have a lot to apologize for in his relationship with Camille — his behavior at the gala included — but he at least knew her career in no way depended upon his input. She loved her job, and he wouldn't want her to quit for his sake.

From what he remembered of Caroline Forbes, she didn't strike him as the sort to give up her passions easily.

"Well, I doubt her campaign has any effect on our business," Klaus dismissed easily, "just as I doubt our presence will run hers to the ground. Mystic Bakery has a unique draw on its own. Caroline should be proud." As should you, he added silently.

"Gentlemen," Elijah interjected with a strange look at his brother. "I believe we've gotten off topic. Mikaelson Brews is open to sponsoring the city health initiative, but I want to see numbers."

Hurriedly, Tyler passed over the bound report he had been fidgeting with the whole time Klaus was speaking. "Right, of course. Mrs. Mikaelson warned me you were the kind of guy to see things in black and white. I figured it would be best to come prepared for that."

Sensing the conversation would get boring for him, Klaus straightened abruptly to leave. "I should catch up with Marcel, but keep me posted on the rabble rousing competition, brother." He snorted again at the effort. "The new store is on time and has plenty of support. Be sure to invite Miss Forbes to the opening, why don't you? It's healthy to face the futility of our actions from time to time."

Elijah sighed at the gleeful comment, but Klaus was already gone before he could be chastised. "Very well, Mr. Lockwood, tell me the plan."

* * *

Caroline scrubbed the display shelves beneath the counter with more force than was probably necessary, but stress cleaning was her best form of relief - and she needed some relief. Her media contacts were drying out; the press was all for the story, but Mikaelson Brews had remained radio silent. The inherent lack of confrontation had diminished all her efforts to rally a protesting faction against big business swallowing up the local neighborhood.

So, she cleaned.

Mystic Bakery had luckily kept up their steady sales, or else her anxiety wouldn't be so easily dealt with. She hoped using the afternoon break would give her the optimistic boost she needed to get to dinner that night. Tyler had been hinting he wasn't happy with her campaigning; it seemed a big conversation was coming their way.

The bell rang from the front of the store, and Caroline poked her head up in confusion. "We're closed," she called before recognizing the visitors' faces. They were the Mikaelson siblings, the younger ones who managed to give a worse impression than their oh-so-charming brother, before she even knew they were Mikaelsons.

If only her intuition had warned her about Nik, or Klaus, as well.

"Sorry," Caroline said, standing tall and not sounding very sorry at all. "We're only open until two on Tuesdays, but you can stop by bright and early at six tomorrow morning if you really have a craving." Secretly, she figured the spoiled brats weren't morning people on their best day.

"Oh, having to cut back your hours already?" the girl sneered. Caroline couldn't remember her name, and it hadn't been among her Mikaelson Brews research. Apparently, that didn't preclude the sister from getting involved in the family business. "Poor thing."

With her best pageant queen smile, Caroline slowly removed her gloves to slap them into the sink behind her. "Our hours haven't changed and they're posted on the door, pardon me for correcting your misinformation."

"Yes, Rebekah. This adorable little outfit doesn't have to change to accommodate our family. It should, but it doesn't have to." The brother settled himself onto one the stools, his chin supported by the arm rudely crooked on her clean counter. "At least, that's what my brothers are always trying to teach me. Business is only as good as the competition you beat."

Clenching her fists in her apron, Caroline fought to keep her composure otherwise. "Can I help you?" she asked firmly.

The girl clucked her tongue as she more gracefully slid into a seat. "Oh, darling, don't mind Kol. We hardly give a whit about the business, so you can stop being so defensive."

"I'm only defensive because this feels like a confrontation," Caroline said through gritted teeth.

"That's more Nik's game," Kol supplied. "Blame him for our appearance, he was raving on and on about your shop, your boyfriend, your little media mentions, and we were just starving for some of your delectable goods."

Caroline frowned at his suggestive eyebrow waggle, but it was the words he spoke that were more concerning. "Why would my boyfriend be on your brother's radar?"

Rebekah shrugged. "Something about a meeting with Elijah and wanting your bakery to fail," she answered in a blithe voice. Either she didn't notice Caroline's wide eyes or hurt expression, or she just didn't care. She inspected her manicure carefully as she snorted. "Not that I'll let that happen, you do have excellent snacks. I worked out this morning, so I feel I've earned a treat."

Shaking her head, Caroline barely felt her braid whipping against her neck with the fervent motion. "We're closed," she barked more clearly, trying to stave off the angry panic threatening to throw her into a full on attack.

"She does have a backbone," Rebekah noted to her brother. Turning back, she gave Caroline an approving once-over. "I like her."

Confusion gripping her throat, Caroline had no words for the bizarre siblings playing head games with her. Fortunately, Davina burst in with the bell chiming to greet her.

"Sorry," Davina announced, though her head cocked at the strangers. "I thought I just left my portfolio, but did I forget to lock the door? Who are you?"

Kol whirled on his stool, standing to give a cartoonish bow. "My princess has forgotten me, I despair," he said dramatically.

Groaning, Rebekah stood primly. "Come, Kol. You can despair at the worksite, I want to see Marcel." She strode toward the door, only glancing over her shoulder to wag her fingers teasingly at Caroline. "I'll be sure to stop by tomorrow. After all, it'd truly be a shame for Mystic Bakery to become a casualty of my brother's little war."

While Caroline was almost sure the girl meant it to be comforting, maybe even friendly, she only heard the threat that it was. The bells chimed again, far too cheery for the shadowy spots in her vision. "I can't breathe," she cried, gripping the counter.

Familiar with Caroline's panic attacks from time to time, Davina rushed to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. "Drink," she ordered after removing the cap. She rubbed her friend's back, keeping a steady rhythm for her to latch onto. "You haven't had one this bad for a while."

After a few deep breaths, Caroline felt more at ease to speak. "I haven't had the family from hell coming down on me before," she answered drily. Clearing her throat, though, her dark thoughts returned. "What if they're right, D? I thought going to the press would help, but it's just made me a target. And now Tyler? What the hell was that?"

"What about Tyler?" Davina asked in concern.

"They said—" Caroline choked at the thought, hating that it sounded possibly true to her ear. "They said he's not shy about wanting Mystic Bakery to fail."

"I'm sure that's not true."

Caroline licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry with distaste. "It wouldn't be the first time he's mentioned something similar," she admitted. "But he's never been so blatant about it, and definitely not to others. At least, that's what I thought."

"Dick," Davina snorted.

"Mikaelson Brews opens next week," Caroline moaned. "If I'm this stressed out now, how bad is it going to be when they're actually a problem?"

Davina perked up with an epiphany. "Maybe that is the problem. You're working yourself up over the unknown, but everything will work out once you can catch your bearings again."

Narrowing her eyes, Caroline peeked up to see her friend grinning happily. "I feel a disturbance in the force," she joked. "You're supposed to be my cynical sweetheart."

"Someone needs to keep up the optimist's end," she shrugged in return. "Seriously, just use this week to distract yourself. I would say it'd be a perfect time to do something fun with Tyler, but screw him. Do something just for you, something crazy you've always wanted to try."

An image of her phone alight with an alert came to mind. The phantom buzz of her email against her leg didn't help to stem the insane urge filling her.

Forcing a relaxed smile, Caroline nodded. "Maybe you're right, D. Aren't you late for class?"

Davina glanced uneasily to the wall clock, wincing at the time. "Crap, yes," she whined. "But I don't have to go, I want to make sure you're okay."

"Go," Caroline goaded, her smile feeling much more genuine as Davina scrambled to grab her portfolio from the back room. "I'm a big girl, and I might even take your advice — but only if you hurry up and get back to campus."

Waving, Davina rolled her eyes as Caroline watched her go.

"Artist types," she muttered playfully. Left alone, though, her amusement drained into anxious uncertainty. While she wanted to track Tyler down and give him a piece of her mind, Davina had a good point about treating herself instead. As though he knew what she was considering, a message from the Society's app dinged in her back pocket.

_**OH: I must admit there's something to this upbeat optimism you try to sell me on. Not only did I have a good workday, but I also managed to find a cemetery guide from the 1920s in good condition.** _

Biting her lip, Caroline tried to ignore the thick lump in her throat as she tapped out a response.

Then deleted it before sending.

"It's not like he hasn't suggested it before," she reasoned with herself, though she frowned at the thin logic. "Maybe— No. Don't ruin a good thing."

An imagined voice in her head, the one she associated with reading OriginalHybrid's messages, popped up. _What if it gets even better?_

Swallowing down that lump and the fear behind it, Caroline quickly sent the simplest reply she could before she chickened out. Her breath tightened with the little 'Delivered' notification that just sat there, waiting.

_**BB: Care to show me in person?** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So many thanks to everyone who reads and reviews, you have no idea what it means to me to have your support. Let me know what you think, and you can always hit me up on AO3 or Tumblr at the same username. I had a lot of fun with my question anon this week, and I highly encourage you to join in! That said, please don't hate me for ending the chapter there - especially if I'm late with the next update. You know, just a warning. Cheers!


	7. Words Can Hurt You If You Let Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of _You've Got Mail_  and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on  _TVD_.**

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, man?" Marcel asked. He kept a keen eye on his friend primping in front of the mirrored glass windows as he locked up the storefront.

Frowning, Klaus ran a frenzied hand through his hair, wishing he had time for a proper styling before his long awaited introduction to BarbieBlonde. While Marcel knew the bare minimum - that he had an online friend he was finally going to meet - he wasn't aware of the particulars. The supernatural obsession aside, his clandestine relationship would likely ring alarm bells to those close to him.

"I just-" Seemingly lost for words, Marcel pinned him with a confused look. "You met a girl online, fine. But do you not have a blonde of your own back in your apartment, waiting for you to come home after the twelve-hour day we just pulled?"

Klaus hesitated. He had wondered the same thing over the year he exchanged messages with his pen pal, though it seemed harmless when it was just words on a screen. As he became more emotionally invested, casually eager to respond to every new notification, perhaps he should have kept his new friend in perspective. Still, there was something incredibly real in his connection with BarbieBlonde; he owed it to himself to see how it played out.

"It may seem cold, I admit, but I need to know her." Running his tongue over his lips, Klaus sighed. "Cami is kind, and I know I don't treat her as well as I ought to. She talks, and I listen, but I'm never really paying attention." Lost in the rare moment of self-reflection, he turned to face Marcel's concerned expression. For so long, he had kept his internal mulling private - a new set of eyes on the situation would be much appreciated at this critical juncture. "The friend I'm meeting tonight, it's…easy. I'm rapt with her stories, her reactions. Marcel, I might love this girl, and I'll never find out what that feels like if I don't show up."

The smile slowly ticked up the corners of Marcel's mouth as Klaus self-consciously shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, well, I never thought I'd see the day," he teased. "Klaus Mikaelson has a heart after all." At the sheepish roll of his eyes, though, Marcel relented. "I get where you're coming from, I do, but does it have to be tonight? The store opens tomorrow, and I need you here bright and early in the morning - preferably not in a crumpled suit with lipstick stains on your skin. We've been fighting that spitfire from Mystic Bakery in the press, and we don't need to finally feed the dogs a scandal on opening day."

Holding up his hands defensively, Klaus couldn't hold back a chuckle. "We're just meeting at the bookstore, perhaps drinks, if I can talk her into it," he explained. "It took us days of negotiation to even set a tentative plan. I doubt she's the type to jump into anything so serious."

"But you are," Marcel pointed out. "You just said you might love this girl."

Unsure how to handle that very inconvenient truth, he shrugged. "Can one love a complete stranger without a name?"

"You've got a point. Strangers on the Internet, dangerous stuff." Marcel clapped him on the back in support. "She could be catfishing you for all you're worth, but hey, good luck."

"Shove off, mate," Klaus laughed, hoping his very real worry wasn't obvious as his friend walked down the street.

It wasn't just about her looks, despite a shallow streak a mile wide present in all the Mikaelson brood; Klaus was terrified that the ease of their connection was little more than a convenient intimacy with someone they didn't have to face everyday. She might loathe his arrogance in person, most people did. For a year, he thought he'd found the person who made him think, live - who made him happy. What if she didn't live up to his expectations?

Worse, what if he didn't live up to hers?

The anxious thoughts consumed him as he tread the avenue toward the Shop Around the Corner, deliberately slow. Still too early, he took another lap around the block, nervously pulling at his collar the whole time. He even stopped for a tourist asking for directions, a habit he nagged Cami and Marcel about constantly.

Ten minutes later, and five past the appointed meeting time, Klaus took a deep breath as he opened the door. Winding his way to the occult section tucked in the back, BarbieBlonde's given description running through his head:  _blue dress, pink scarf, blonde curls._

His heart pounded in his chest as he peeked round the final corner, hoping against hope that she could deliver on the promise of being his soulmate.

He indeed saw a head of beautiful blonde curls inspecting the shelves, though he couldn't see her face. The fetching blue dress swished along her knees as she lifted onto her tiptoes to see higher, reaching for a familiar book - his favorite art collection of various New Orleans legends. She opened it and flipped to a section like she knew it was there, like she had read it before at his very suggestion. The curls fell into her eyes, shielding him further, and Klaus silently begged her to look up.

Oh, that she hadn't.

Apparently just as irritated with her hair, she swept the errant strands behind her ear. The clearer visibility allowed Klaus to finally lay eyes on BarbieBlonde.

Jerking out of sight, he leaned against the bookshelf that hid him from her view. His worst fear had been that BarbieBlonde would take one look at him and realize he wasn't worth her time, her care, her affection. He had no idea there was a possibility even more devastating: she already hated him more than anything, she just didn't know it.

For if he could bring himself to walk up to her, Caroline Forbes would likely spit fire at finding out just who OriginalHybrid really was - the big, bad wolf in her story.

* * *

Caroline fought to keep her breathing even despite the panic that threatened to choke her with each minute OriginalHybrid kept her waiting. She considered it a sign of personal growth that she didn't jump when the little bell rang every time the door opened; the occult section being in the store's back corner was a small mercy.

Plus, the books did serve as some distraction, even if they couldn't completely shut up her overactive and completely unhelpful brain. What if wasn't late? Maybe he never wanted to meet her. Worse, he might have come and gone, already deciding she wasn't worth getting to know in person.

Seeing one of the books OriginalHybrid often wrote about, Caroline automatically reached for the familiar tome. She held it close, thumbing through to find his favorite passage, if only to keep her hands from shaking.

He was five minutes late.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, and Caroline's eyes squeezed shut. She knew this whole thing wouldn't work out, there was too much for her to hope for. Taking a deep breath, she checked for the inevitable rejection message.

_**OH: Something came up, apologies. Perhaps this isn't the best time to meet after all.** _

Biting her lip, Caroline refused to let the tears building fall; she wiped them carefully from her eyes without smudging her makeup. So, she wasn't going to meet OriginalHybrid. It was probably for the best. He was never going to be the magic solution to all her problems.

She still had a boyfriend who needed to respect her career goals. Breaking up with Tyler, if that was what she even wanted to do, shouldn't depend on her meeting a mystery penpal - someone who shouldn't factor in at all. But, he might have made the decision a little bit easier.

Mystic Bakery was a whole different story. She had been leaning on OriginalHybrid for so much support as the days counted down to the Mikaelson Brews opening; it would have been nice to have another person in her corner, not just a screen name.

As she tucked her phone away, Caroline worried she wouldn't even have that.

"Well, well, sweetheart," a familiar voice taunted. "Fancy meeting you here."

Her mouth fell into a frown, the sadness giving way to anger at the smug expression Klaus fricking Mikaelson had on his face. "I though you weren't planning to terrorize the neighborhood until tomorrow," she snapped.

Klaus smirked, walking toward her with an eye on the art section. "Even neighborhood terrors can have hobbies," he shrugged.

"Right, your appreciation of the masters," she remembered, though her voice stung with venom. "I'm not sure why you bother with little shops like this. I thought you corporate types were bargain hunters."

He shrugged playfully. "Only when it comes to coffee and baked goods."

Scoffing, Caroline crossed her arms tightly as her temper flared. "Look, I'm really not in the mood to deal with you tonight, or ever," she bit out. "Just stay in your art section and leave me be."

Of course, her clear request had the opposite effect on the infuriating bane of her existence. Turning his full attention on her, Klaus theatrically craned his neck to see the book she still held. "Myths and Legends of the Crescent City, an Illustrated Guide," he read aloud, his voice full of mirth. "Looking for a bedtime story, love? I figured you for a more serious sort than believing in fairytales."

Suddenly self-conscious, Caroline clenched the book a bit tighter. It was reactions like that she had feared, why she had clung so fiercely to the Society's rules of anonymity, even as she grew closer to OriginalHybrid. People were jerks; how fitting that Klaus Mikaelson easily served as Exhibit A. Swallowing down the hurt, though, she steeled herself to take him down a peg or two.

"Actually," she said, her voice coldly polite, "New Orleans has a fascinating history, and supernatural lore is just as much a part of the city's fabric as anything else. Why am I not surprised that you can't appreciate this place for what it offers?" At the widening of his eyes, Caroline took a menacing step forward. "You want to laugh at me for this? Go ahead, it says more about you than it does about me."

She choked out a laugh, the words coming so fast to keep up with her emotional turmoil. "God," she brought her hands up to her lips like a prayer, "you're not even worth the calories I burn talking to you. It's like my life has become this cosmic joke. I was supposed to meet someone tonight, someone who cared about this-" Caroline nodded down to the book in fury. "Someone who cared about creating something worthwhile, original and part of a larger community, not disrupting it for their own gain," she spat with an accusing stare.

His gaze turned bitter, and Klaus gave a mean laugh. "Supposed to meet?" he challenged, smirking when her expression fell slack with surprise. "What happened, did your friend decide to get a good night's sleep for our grand opening tomorrow? Perhaps they've come around to the unoriginal transplant if it means a good cup of tea."

Caroline frowned deeply, her eyes vulnerable despite her clear desire to pretend she was unaffected by his words. "Something came up, not that it's any of your business," she snapped.

Klaus clucked, shaking his head in mocking shame. "All dressed up and nowhere to go, that's too bad. Was this a blind date? Your boyfriend didn't strike me as the progressive sort, but everyone has secrets. Perhaps there are more constructive avenues to work out our disagreements, sweetheart, pending your boyfriend's approval, I suppose."

Her hand twitched as though she wanted to slap him, and Klaus raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Oh, does he not know?" His head canted to the side with a wicked glint in his eyes. "You're the one with secrets, then. Little Miss Forbes, whatever would the papers have to say about their avenging angel of the small business community?"

She pursed her lips, angry tears welling up at the creepily accurate observations. Narrowing her eyes, Caroline felt an odd suspicion creep over her, though she couldn't put her finger on it. There was a weird tension to Klaus, as though she had offended him without realizing; but she had her own hurt to worry about with OriginalHybrid ditching her. It certainly didn't help that Klaus was wearing a gray dress shirt, just like her 'blind date' had promised to-

Fearfully, her eyes flicked down to his wrist, looking for the onyx Rolex watch OriginalHybrid had mentioned as an identifying feature. With a cathartic sigh, Caroline realized Klaus wasn't wearing any watch at all.  _Thank god for small victories_ , she thought to herself.

Ignoring Klaus as he watched her reaction - nosy, overbearing ass - Caroline shook out her curls and blinked away those pesky tears. "You know what? Make fun of me in the press, you elitist dick. So what if I like supernatural stories and haunt the occult sections of bookstores? I'm lucky to spare this time from my business, that I have great friends who are proud to work for Mystic Bakery. You may have Tyler on your side, but nothing he says on this subject matters to me."

She stepped closer, grinning right in his face. "Just like you don't matter to me."

With that, Caroline gently set the book she still held in its rightful space on the shelf. Turning on her heel, she couldn't resist a parting barb over her shoulder. "Have a good opening tomorrow, I hope you enjoy the hollow victory of preying on the small shops you're trying to run out of business."

Though she could feel his eyes burning into her back, Caroline kept her chin high as she waved goodbye to Kathleen and entered the stifling New Orleans night. Her chest heaved with gulps of warm air, the feeling of OriginalHybrid's rejection warring with her anger at Klaus showing his face at just the wrong moment. And she would be heading home to an empty apartment, having lied to Tyler about needing a girls' night with Bonnie. Maybe it was her, bringing this all on herself.

_That's not depressing at all_. Caroline needed a brownie, and a drink.

* * *

Klaus watched her go, the tight clutch of her fists the only remaining sign of the anger she had verbally unleashed upon him. He felt like a fool, embarrassing her the way he did. But pride had always led to him to foolish ends; Chicago was full of examples. Finding out that BarbieBlonde and Caroline Forbes were one and the same had thrown him, and his cowardice led him to insult the very interest that brought them together. He should have gone home once he sent the message.

Seeing her face crumple in disappointment, however, drove him to take that next step. Klaus had slipped off his watch, the one clinking in his pocket on his long walk home, for fear of her rejection at the idea of him being OriginalHybrid. He had frozen when her eyes fell to his wrist; Caroline's sigh of relief cut him in a way he hadn't expected. So, he lashed out, as was familiar to him.

At his front door, Klaus sighed at the memories and the shame that itched in result.

"Hey," Cami called as he let himself into their apartment, her voice drifting from the bedroom. "I thought you'd be home early, to get a good night's sleep before the grand opening."

Klaus stumbled over his words, the inherent betrayal of Camille haven't crossing his mind since meeting Caroline in a new light. "Er, no," he eked out. "Marcel and I had final details to go over." He found his girlfriend reading a book in bed, none the wiser he had been meeting another woman. "You didn't have to wait up."

Setting her book aside, Cami smiled kindly. "I wanted to make sure you relaxed before your big day."

She reached for the button of her nightgown, but Klaus shook his head before turning toward the bathroom. His mouth felt dry with distaste at his one actions. "You're right, I should get to sleep," he muttered before shutting himself away from her prying eyes.

BarbieBlonde - Caroline - was everything he could have hoped for, sharp-tongued and engaging. Despite knowing he would have to break up with Cami at some point, Klaus felt the full weight of his illicit communications as she unknowingly waited for him to clear his head of the woman he would have so bitterly disappointed with his true identity.

As though knowing he needed a kick, his phone buzzed with a message from BarbieBlonde. His heart sank reading her words.

_**BB: Maybe it's for the best. I'd only bring you down.** _

Klaus sighed, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. "If only you knew, love."

* * *

**A/N: ...hi.** **I hope this long-awaited chapter didn't disappoint!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...hi. I hope this long-awaited chapter didn't disappoint!


	8. You'd Think I'd Be Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Caroline whipped the egg whites with a fierce determination, studiously ignoring Bonnie's stare. Her friend had entered the kitchen quietly when she was sifting the dry ingredients; it had been a tense stand-off since. The only noise was the clink of the beaters against the glass bowl, and it grated Caroline's already frayed nerves.

"If you're just going to stand there," she finally snapped, "could you at least mix a quick vanilla buttercream for the filling?"

Bonnie's voice was soft, though a vein of frustration bled through. "What are you doing, Care?"

Rolling her eyes, Caroline wiped her face, no doubt leaving a stripe of flour dusted across her cheek. "Making macarons, duh."

"You've made about six batches of macarons," Bonnie deadpanned. She was clearly unimpressed with the perfect rows of cookies that covered the counter. "We'll never sell that many."

"Not today, you mean." She wasn't bitter about the crowded street just down the block, not at all. The shop windows were all shut to keep the cool air in; it had nothing to do with keeping out the strains of live jazz coming from the Mikaelson Brews grand opening. "It's fine, I'll take a few boxes around the neighborhood. A little 'buck up, partner' treat."

Eyes wide with compassion, Bonnie shook her head. "Please talk to me. You've been off-kilter all week and maniacally baking all day. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Caroline defended hotly. "In case you haven't noticed, this is still a bakery, at least until those stupid Mikaelsons pry this place from my cold, dead hands." As she packed the batter into a pastry bag, though, Caroline sighed at her friend's stony glare. "I mean, a little baking is to be expected."

"Stress-baking," Bonnie accused. "And don't bother denying it, that little outburst proves that this opening is getting to you."

Pressing her lips together, Caroline turned her focus to plating out perfect dots of cookies. It was a convenient excuse, that her Mikaelson-related turmoil was more business than personal. God, if only she hadn't run into Klaus the night before. He just had to kick her when she was down, and he was infuriatingly good at pushing her buttons.

Maybe Bonnie was right, and she was being too sensitive about the whole thing. But she hadn't exactly told her yet about OriginalHybrid, either. Before she could broach the subject, however, the kitchen door swung open.

Davina walked in while tying her apron strings, only to pause at the state of the kitchen. "Wow, did it rain cookies?"

"Caroline's stress-baking," Bonnie explained, ignoring the blonde's indignant huff.

"Oh," Davina drawled in realization. "The thing with Creepy Mikaelson and his sister Snooty? They're terrible and don't matter."

Bonnie turned on Caroline, head cocked in challenge. "The what now?"

"They came into the shop last week, worked Care into a panic attack about the Brews running us out of business." Glancing between the other two women, Davina's lips rounded into an awkward pucker. "You didn't tell her?"

Dropping her head into her hands, Bonnie groaned, "No, she didn't."

"It doesn't matter," Caroline insisted.

"So that's not what's bothering you?"

"No!"

Watching the friends square off, Davina nodded thoughtfully. "So, it's the Tyler working with them thing?"

"What?!"

Bonnie's exclamation was loud enough for Enzo to poke his head into the kitchen. "Darlings, you know better than to leave me out of the fun, especially when customers must be attended."

"Not now, babe." With a dismissive wave to her boyfriend, Bonnie's gaze never left Caroline. As her friend nervously focused on the cookies, she could recognize the rising blush on her heels as mortification; it wasn't a look Caroline Forbes wore often or well. Reaching for her hands, Bonnie's voice lowered in repeated concern. "Please, talk to me."

It wasn't until Enzo and Davina shuffled out of the room to give them some privacy that Caroline let out a ragged breath. "I might have had a bad week or two."

Nodding, Bonnie leaned back against the other counter, letting her collect her thoughts.

"Um, so Tyler has been pretty distant lately with my vendetta against Mikaelson Brews," Caroline haltingly explained. "I had thought it was because he doesn't like that I spend so much time on the bakery, but he's apparently been working on a city project or something with the Mikaelsons."

"Dick."

Caroline's lips pulled up into a weak smile. "Yeah, I've been trying to work through whether or not I can be with him when he clearly resents my work, and this was just kind of the cherry on top."

Picking up one of the finished macarons, Bonnie popped it in her mouth. "But you haven't broken up with him yet?"

"That's the thing," Caroline stalled. "I haven't seen him since, too busy worried about other things."

"What other things?" Bonnie rolled her eyes when Caroline just shrugged at the surrounding kitchen. "Other than the bakery," she clarified.

Caroline stared at her feet, swallowing down the lingering hurt. "I might have been stood up by OriginalHybrid last night," she admitted quietly. Hot tears landed on her cheeks, which she tried to discreetly brush away.

Not fooled in the slightest, Bonnie pulled her into a tight hug. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked again, more understanding as she ran a comforting hand up and down her back.

Shaking her head, Caroline clung to Bonnie. It was a catharsis of painful proportion; even Caroline hadn't realized how much she needed just to cry with her best friend.

That was how Enzo found them minutes later, awkwardly bursting in on their private moment. "Sorry, loves, but the drink vendor is here. One of you needs to sign for the delivery."

"I got it," Bonnie assured, patting Caroline's back once more. "Enzo, take care of our girl here."

Caroline opened her mouth to protest, but one of his meaty arms had already landed on her shoulder. "Come now, tell Uncle Lorenzo all your problems," he half-teased, his easy-going nature helping her to relax. "What's the trouble?"

"What isn't?" she countered miserably as she leaned into his embrace.

Nodding, Enzo scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Not quite the Caroline Forbes optimism I know and love, but you have a fair point." He chuckled as her elbow dug into his side. "You're allowed to wallow, just for a bit. Then, you'll pick yourself up, make a list, and ruthlessly accomplish your goals like the perky, blonde angel of death that you are."

She blinked, absorbing his words. "You're right."

"I know." Enzo sighed in jest, but Caroline was too lost in her thoughts to respond.

The bakery would be a matter of time and spreadsheets; all she could do was focus on business as usual and see what happened. She refused to reach out to OriginalHybrid again, especially when he hadn't bothered to contact her since his lame excuse for canceling their plans to meet the night before.

But there was one problem she could cross off her list, something she shouldn't have waited so long to do.

"Thanks, Enzo," she said, pulling out her phone. "The girls could probably use some help with that delivery."

Raising his hands, Enzo bent into a cartoonish bow. "I can take a hint, gorgeous."

She blew him a kiss as he left the kitchen, her phone already pressed to her ear. Each ring constricted her heart, but he finally answered on the third one. "Hey, Tyler," she greeted, her voice surprisingly even given her nerves. "Can you meet me for lunch? We need to talk."

* * *

With the bustling crowd in the cafe providing quite the distraction, Klaus could almost pretend he didn't feel Marcel's eyes watching his every expression. The problem was that he was too bored, even amid his grand opening after months of work; he had no energy to put on a good show for his friend. "Stop it," he snapped when Marcel sidled up to him in the corner.

"It's your party, cry if you want to," Marcel shrugged with an easy smile. "But you're a success, Mikaelson. It's not like you to not enjoy it."

Taking a deep gulp of his tea, Klaus raised a knowing eyebrow. "As I recall, Elijah warned against enjoying myself too much. I suppose I haven't found the right balance yet."

Marcel clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, watching the customers swarm from the street. "You can't let Chicago haunt you forever, man," he said more quietly. "Though maybe I should be asking about your blind date last night. Dream girl didn't live up to your expectations?"

"The opposite, unfortunately," Klaus breathed to himself.

It was still seared in his mind, the fierce glint in her eye as Caroline told him exactly what she thought of him. She was everything he could have hoped for: an engaging woman, knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to let him know where he lacked, and beautiful.

So beautiful.

He cleared his throat at Marcel's curious look. "Caroline Forbes." Klaus could almost see the laugh catch in his throat, impatiently waiting for Marcel to gather himself. "Yes, it's very funny."

Seemingly lost for words, it took Marcel another long moment to respond. "I assume pretty little Caroline didn't take the news well, which explains your mood."

"She doesn't even know." Klaus hung his head, embarrassed and not a little bit ashamed. The faint shine of tears under soft bookshop lights stung more than he would have thought. Chicago had been a poor example of his personal investment; meeting BarbieBlonde was supposed to be better. He was supposed to be better. "I didn't tell her who I was. I messaged her, saying I couldn't make it."

Concerned realization lit behind Marcel's eyes. "But Klaus Mikaelson showed up anyway, and she was not impressed."

Klaus tipped his mug in acknowledgment. "She was glorious," he admitted, a note of fondness in his voice. "That temper, her passion. It all made sense, knowing she was BarbieBlonde the entire time." He frowned deeply when Marcel choked back another laugh. "It's her screen name," he said tersely.

"What's yours," Marcel challenged, "BroodingArtist?"

Rolling his eyes, Klaus shrugged off the friendly tease. "It hardly matters, she'll never speak to me again, online or in person." His gaze flit in the direction of Mystic Bakery, though he couldn't see it from the Brews. Out of sight, out of mind was an adage that apparently didn't work for him; a part of him worried what it truly meant to lose her entirely. He supposed he would find out soon enough. "She wants nothing to do with either version of me anymore."

Marcel was quiet again, contemplative. "What do you want?"

 _Her_.

"What I can't have," Klaus sighed. With a weak grin, he set the cold remains of his tea in the dish bin. The surrounding din began to wear on him, any excitement he once had for the opening had steadily drained since the night before. Best to leave before things fell apart; perhaps it was a lesson he was finally starting to learn. Nodding toward Marcel, he made to leave. "I think I'm done for the day. Let me know if any problems crop up, but I'll leave the rest of the party in your hands."

"You're leaving?" Marcel's surprised voice was joined by Elijah's resigned disappointment.

Ignoring his brother's approach altogether, Klaus shook his partner's hand. "Good work, Marcel. Enjoy it."

"Niklaus," Elijah called out, forcing him to turn lest the curious customers around them latch onto some tawdry tidbit of the legendary Mikaelsons. "Surely you're not finished. The city council hasn't stopped by yet, nor has the mayor's delegation."

His hands extended to the busy cafe, a wicked smirk tipping his lips upward. "And look at the welcome they'll receive," Klaus bowed. "Marcel can handle it, and you're here to hold his hand if necessary. Goodbye, brother."

Finally pushing through the door to the bright sunshine of midday, Klaus winced at the sudden intrusion of light. He could still hear the hushed anger as Elijah tried to politely pry the details of his departure from Marcel, but Klaus's mind was back in a bookstore where his cowardice replayed over and over again.

Walking down the street toward his apartment, he couldn't help the urge to look in the bright kitchen window of Mystic Bakery. The young assistant baker whose name Klaus couldn't remember was too busy piping with a frosting bag to notice him staring; Caroline was nowhere to be found.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Klaus felt his phone and realized it hadn't buzzed all day - not with the custom vibration set for the Society's messaging, anyway. He could hardly blame Caroline for not contacting him, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Whether it was for how he acted or how she reacted, he didn't know.

With a final glance to the once welcoming bakery, though, Klaus only hoped it would ease with time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A little shorter chapter to finish off the first half of this fic, but I hope you like it! We'll pick up after a bit of a time jump, let the dust settle as Caroline deals with her implied (but totally happened, let there be no ambiguity) breakup and Klaus works up some courage (with the right support). Please let me know what you think, I only get better with help.


	9. I'll Be Glad I Got'em

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Tugging lightly at a loose curl, Caroline idly twirled the lock of hair around her finger as she read through the bookkeeping reports. The bakery's sunny office was usually reserved for Bonnie and her spreadsheets, but Caroline had been spending more time going over the numbers since Mikaelson Brews had opened.

Luckily, she had a pretty good, built-in excuse.

"I don't know why I expected you to give up these investor reports once you paid us back," her father sighed, his amusement clear over their video chat. "It sounds like everything is going fine, even with the new competition."

Caroline glanced up from where she was annotating Bonnie's accounting charts. "Maybe right now, but I want you to be prepared in case things start to change."

Leaning away from his screen, Bill Forbes laced his fingers patiently on his desk. Atlanta high rises towered in the window behind him. "I do run my own business, honey, and your numbers aren't scaring me yet."

"Private security and cookies are two very different things, Daddy," she countered. "I see your point, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't keep you in the loop."

"I know." His smile was fond, as it should have been since he was the one to foster her perfectionist's attention to detail. "But that's enough business for today. It's been ages since we've talked. You're not back with that boy, are you?"

Caroline hesitated at the question of her personal life, or the lack thereof. The breakup with Tyler had been surprisingly amicable despite the uncomfortable conversation over lunch a month earlier. Maybe he didn't understand why the bakery was so important to her, but even he could see that their differing priorities wouldn't have ended well.

"No, I've just been busy with the bakery, trying to find the balance between cutting costs and maintaining the things that make Mystic  _Mystic_." It wasn't easy for her to concede to Bonnie's thoughtful suggestions for streamlining their menu and schedule. Determined not to cut back on everyone's hours, the hardest part for Caroline was to close the main area for breakfast in favor of the walk-up window. She did win the fight to set a couple of tables outside and to open in case of bad weather, but their offerings were still limited to hand-held treats.

And maybe she had been throwing herself into work to avoid thinking about her newly single state. After the breakup, Caroline had gone through her usual mourning routine of ice cream, sappy movies, and a final girls night out to dance and flirt with strangers. Still, Bonnie had eyed her over their violently green margaritas when she turned away more than a few cute men.

She was flattered by the attention at the club, but Tyler wasn't the only heartbreak she had been trying to heal; it wasn't a warm body she was missing the most. Her phone remained stubbornly silent on the desk, its blank screen far too distracting for Caroline to focus on the numbers before her.

OriginalHybrid hadn't contacted her since that awful night in the bookstore.

Some days, she found herself opening one of their email threads, not sure how - or even if - they could find their footing again. As angry as she had been, as disappointed as she still was, Caroline couldn't help but miss him. She refused to let the embarrassment of his rejection scare her from the Society message boards, but it was almost worse when she realized he had stopped posting altogether.

The wondering drove her crazy. What could have happened to push him away? She had yet to drum up the courage to reach out, let alone to ask.

"I'm sure everything will work out."

Startled by her dad's voice, Caroline tried not to show that she almost forgot he was still on the line. "Yeah," she smiled too brightly, "yeah, everything's good. Um, we're closing up soon so I should help clean. I love you! Give Steven a hug for me."

Bill chuckled indulgently, all too familiar with her avoidance tactics. "Okay, honey, I love you, too. Don't work too hard."

Rolling her eyes, her smile fell into something more genuine. "Pot, kettle," she teased before hanging up. With a deep breath, her eyes slid shut. The lightly chemical smell of cleaning products was almost as comforting as the bakery's usually buttery aroma, and she pushed herself up from the desk to work out some of her stress on polishing the counter.

A burst of laughter welcomed her to the front room, where Bonnie and Davina were chatting happily with Rebekah Mikaelson.

Perhaps the only thing more frustrating than the Mikaelson Brew heiress becoming a regular around the bakery was the fact that Caroline had been warming to the idea that she was actually a decent friend. A judgmental, spoiled brat, but Rebekah was also wickedly smart and surprisingly generous. Her fresh fruit smoothie budget alone was probably keeping Mystic afloat.

Honestly, it took Caroline a long while to overcome her bad opinion of Rebekah and the family that shall not be named. Suspicion had slowly given way to an acknowledgment of Rebekah's determination to strike out on her own, then to an appreciation for her determination to open an event planning business someday. She almost felt a kindred spirit within her, and she wanted to laugh at how much things could change in just a few weeks.

Caroline ducked into their housekeeping cabinet for a rag and some cleaning solution. "Hey," she greeted, "you all seem happy. What'd I miss?"

"I'm planning a birthday party for Kol," Rebekah explained with a mischievous grin. "We were just brainstorming themes and decorations."

"Mirrors," Davina snorted, unable to contain a giggle.

Rebekah gave a world-weary sigh as she wrote the suggestion into her planner. "The little narcissist would probably love that." Checking her watch, she begins to pack up her things. "I have a late lunch to get to. Bonnie, you'll handle it?"

Frowning, Caroline glanced at Bonnie, who just nodded uneasily as Rebekah waved goodbye. "Caro, call me when you've made a decision, and be ready to negotiate!" The door whooshed shut, and Davina quickly made herself scarce to clean the kitchen.

"What am I negotiating?" Caroline dropped her rag to cross her arms defensively. And she thought she was done being suspicious of Rebekah.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone. "Rebekah wants Mystic Bakery to cater the party's dessert spread." She showed Caroline the screen, filled with lists and expected guests and budgets.

"Oh." Caroline accepted the phone, confused as to what Bonnie was so worried about. "We cater all the time, and the order looks pretty standard. I don't even see any details to play hardball over. Sure, I'm not a huge fan of getting locked into a room with the Mikaelsons, but depending on the site I can either hide in the kitchen or just handle delivery and cleanup. Enzo is better for parties, anyway, and-"

"Care, it's supposed to be a test," Bonnie interrupted. "What Rebekah really wants is a priority vendor contract with us. Mystic Bakery would have the first chance to cater her events if we can guarantee a preference for her orders, maybe throw some business her way if we hear someone's looking for a planner."

Her mouth dropped open to argue, but Bonnie held up her hands to silently plead for patience. "It's not exclusive, we can still take individual orders and we would only have to take half of the events she brings us in a year to renew the contract."

Shaking her head, Caroline turned to start wiping down the counter. "Oh, sure, let's trust a Mikaelson to look out for our interests, it's not like they're completely ruthless when it comes to business." Her voice dripped with bitterness as she scrubbed.

"Yes, Rebekah is a Mikaelson, but I think she does want this to benefit the both of us. The Brews is incredibly successful, but you've heard her talk about how she's always wanted something different. Just think about it, okay? Kol's birthday party is going to be a great paycheck, regardless of what it might lead to."

With an irritated grumble, Caroline focused on the marble countertop. "For someone who's so sure we can withstand the rest of that demon family, you're awfully ready to buy a safety net from them."

Bonnie smiled wanly as she tapped on her phone. "I just emailed you the particulars for both the party and the contract. All I'm asking is for you to consider the opportunity." Grabbing the last muffin from the display case, she gave a sympathetic shrug. "It won't hurt just to read it over."

Her own phone dinged with a notification as Bonnie went into the kitchen. Caroline knew it was the email she had just sent, but a part of her still hoped it might have come from someone else.

* * *

He absently swirled the ice in his glass as he waited for Rebekah to arrive, the trendy restaurant she chose bustling around him. Klaus had hardly seen his family over the last month; even Elijah only received email reports related to the business. Between checking in with Marcel at the new location and taking extended scouting trips around the country, he mainly found himself secluded in his art studio.

So many canvases started and painted over, yet Klaus still had no idea what he was trying to capture. His frustration was building to dangerous levels, specters of Chicago haunting him with hopes of release and creative abandon.

"You're alive, that's good to know." Rebekah's sneer broke into his musings, not that he was surprised at the tone. Her lunch invitations had grown more threatening the longer he avoided them. "Though I'm not sure why I bother to care if I'm so easily cast off. Perhaps I should send flowers to Cami for putting up with you."

Blinking, Klaus struggled not to shift uncomfortably. He'd barely seen his girlfriend in a week since he developed a habit of sleeping at his studio, but his sister was willing to send her flowers. "I don't think she'll be willing to for much longer," he admitted, taking a swing of his drink.

Rebekah arched a brow in surprise, covering it quickly with a scoff. "Good for her, then." She flagged down a waiter, sending him off for a club soda. "So, what have you been doing and why does it excuse ignoring your sister?"

"Traveling for work, as I'm sure Elijah told you," he shrugged. "Painting some."

A grimace of concern flashed across her face. She picked up her napkin, coolly laying it across her lap. "And I trust the new shop is going well, keeping us rich?"

"Well enough." Klaus forced a smile, relieved when the waiter returned for their orders. Rebekah was likely cajoled into the lunch charade by Elijah himself, whose invitations had also been repeatedly ignored. Business had been draining of late and the last thing Klaus wanted to focus on. As their server retreated, he took the distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. "Kol's birthday is coming up."

"Yes, I've been planning his party." Sitting up straighter, Rebekah looked almost nervous. "Elijah's agreed to use this as a trial run for my business plan. If it goes well, he's going to lend me the start-up money."

Klaus nodded. "If not now, then it would have happened when you graduate next year."

Rolling her eyes, Rebekah sipped her drink. "That's hardly the point. I'm tired of waiting for a measly piece of paper when I know events are exactly what I want to do. I know the trends, I have the contacts, and I can handle budgets."

"A business is more than budgets, Bekah." He grimaced at the immediate anger in her eyes. "I don't mean to be condescending, I'm only speaking from experience."

She softened, but only barely. "I appreciate the lessons you learned the hard way, Nik, but it won't be the same for me. I have family here, friends. One of them is even an accountant, and she's happy to take me on as a client."

"Of course she is, you're a Mikaelson."

With a sharp laugh, Rebekah shook her head. "Please, Bonnie's helping me in spite of the family name, making sure I never have to rely on the Brews for my success."

Confused, he struggled to connect the name, though it wasn't entirely unfamiliar. "Bonnie who?"

"Bonnie Bennett," she all but crowed. "Mystic Bakery is her main client. Only client, really, so she has plenty of time for me."

Klaus stared into his glass, trying not to frown miserably. Call it punishment, maybe even cowardice, but he had taken every precaution of avoiding the temptation that was Caroline Forbes. Shame still flushed his ears when he thought of that night in the bookstore, and he made sure to stay away from the Society's message boards for fear of doing something stupid, like writing to her. Though he dearly missed the companionship she provided as BarbieBlonde, he had no right to enjoy her presence through any means. After so long, surely she must hate him. He cleared his throat, sounding hoarse when he asked, "Because the bakery isn't doing well?"

Rebekah just sipped her drink, unconcerned. "They're managing. But I'm not here to talk insider business," she announced. "Why have you been avoiding us?"

"Ah," Klaus sighed. He ought to have expected it, he supposed, lulled into a complacency by shop talk. "I told you-"

"Yes, yes, scouting developments and painting," Rebekah rattled off dismissively. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact you've been broody and miserable. Well, more than usual. What little I do see of you, however, includes decidedly less attachment to your phone than I remember." With a shrewd look, she seemed to consider whether or not to continue. "Did your girlfriend finally give up on you?"

Startled, his eyes popped wide open. "Cami-"

"We both know that's not who I'm talking about." Her head tipped as she examined his reaction. "Kol may be oblivious and Elijah too blinded to notice anything not connected to the Brews," she scoffed, "but for the last year, you've been secretive and besotted whenever some notification pops up - at least, until recently."

Clearing his throat, Klaus shook his head definitively. "I wasn't having an affair."

Rebekah's eyebrow arched. "Maybe not physically," she conceded, "but you're still an arse, Nik. So, what happened?"

He couldn't meet her searching gaze, instead staring down at his glass once more. "It doesn't matter now."

"Pity, I almost looked forward to Cami tearing you to shreds."

"If she knew," Klaus muttered, "she never let on. I honestly haven't cared enough to ask."

With a stern glare, Rebekah nodded. "Perhaps it's time you do something about that."

* * *

The bag of takeaway felt heavier with each step as he walked home, his other hand tugging lightly at his hair. Rebekah's words were running on a loop in his head; though self-awareness wasn't often a strength of his, even he could acknowledge that she had a point - or several - when it came to his behavior of late. Moody, withdrawn, irritable, all unfortunately true, and all too reminiscent of a time Klaus had hoped he had left behind him.

Elijah had been the one to pull him back to reality in Chicago, tossing him into rehab as quietly as he could. Not that the drugs were really his addiction, more a coping mechanism to balance his growing popularity as an artist against the mounting pressure of meeting his responsibilities to the gallery.

He might have had the Mikaelson head for business, just not when he was plied with money and fame for himself alone. The fame had died down, his name mentioned only in warnings for new artists on the scene, just another 'talent gone wrong' sob story to serve as a bad example. The money would have kept, had he not needed every penny to cover the gallery's embarrassing collapse under his lack of management. But the family was there, and any resentment Klaus held for the Brews would be reduced to snide comments and a quiet gratitude for the security provided.

The life he was able to build, however, wasn't just his. He owed Camille more than what he'd given in years, what little there was paled in comparison to the comfort and stability he had taken for granted again and again. At the very least, she deserved honesty.

Letting himself into the apartment, Klaus called out, "I know you said you weren't hungry, but I picked up Chinese food." His brow furrowed at the bare apartment. The furniture was there, it was small things missing that caught his attention; a gaudy blue vase she excitedly found at a flea market, the fuzzy blanket she used when she worked at the dining room table. It usually hung haphazardly from a chair, an absence that set him at odds from the familiarity of their home. "Camille?"

"I almost didn't think you'd show." Klaus turned to find her in the doorway, a large box in her arms.

He set down the takeaway bag, the oily food smell mingling with his unease to make him feel sick. "I texted you." The flare of defensive anger was instinctual, though Klaus knew full well he had earned her ire. "I know I haven't been here-"

Scoffing, Camille shifts the box in her arms, only to shrug him off when he offers to take it from her. "Nope, you haven't been. I figured it must have been the woman you were seeing, but Hayley heard from Elijah that you were at the studio. At least you weren't dead, right?"

Klaus winced. "I've never cheated on you," he offered weakly.

"Oh, please." She finally dropped the box, and he could see her DVDs stacked inside. "Maybe not this week, but the secret texts, emails? I'm not an idiot, Klaus. Let me guess, your resurgent depressive episode is because she broke up with you?"

Frowning, he raked a hand through his hair. "It's not like that-"

"Okay," Camille snapped, "whatever, Klaus. I don't even care anymore. Clearly, I need to work on my own issues since you've been having an affair, emotional or otherwise," and she holds up a finger when he opens his mouth to argue, "but I'm more upset that you can just text me after a week of radio silence, like this is a normal, healthy relationship."

His hands on his hips, Klaus nodded, knowing what was coming.

Camille sighed, shaking her head when it was clear he didn't want to fight. "God, I'm breaking up with you, and you still don't care." She picked up the box, a sense of finality in her expression. "Hayley's letting me crash for a while. I have to admit, a part of me was hoping you'd try to get me to stay."

"Then why move your things?" Klaus asked, confused.

"Because I knew if I let you brush this off as a fight, then I might never leave," she admitted, sounding tired. "We let ourselves get too comfortable, right? That's how we even got into this mess."

Licking his lips, Klaus took a deep breath. "For what it's worth, I am sorry."

With a hoarse, morbid laugh, Camille opens the door to leave. "I don't want your apologies, Klaus. I wanted you to love me." When he didn't bother to offer belated declarations, though, she smiled ruefully. "I only took my things, you can send any theft accusations through Hayley."

"Take it all," Klaus shrugged. The problem that was becoming abundantly clear was how the apartment never felt like home. "I don't want it."

"Yeah." Unshed tears clogging her throat, Camille shook her head once more. "Yeah, I know."

And she left.

Klaus rubbed a hand across his mouth, waiting for some realization to wash over him. First Rebekah's accusation, then Camille leaving…something should have clicked, surely. Instead, he just felt hollow.

Heading back to the bedroom - now just his - Klaus found his sketchbook. After a week of stalling over canvases in his studio, maybe a return to basics was what he needed. He settled himself in the living room, turning the TV to some soap opera drivel to fill the apartment with sound to dampen the sudden loneliness. His fingers drifted across the page, the charcoal pencil only lightly dragging along the paper.

It wasn't until he recognized the curly ponytail resting against the open back of an evening gown that Klaus felt the realization he had been waiting for. Maybe his relationship with Camille wasn't a good one, but that dysfunction started with his lack of effort. If he ever hoped for a healthy relationship, he would have to try.

Caroline Forbes, even half-sketched in a bitter memory, made him want to try.

He reached for his phone, automatically opening the app he used for the Society. Ignoring the curious messages from other members who had noticed his absence from the discussion board, Klaus scrolled until he found BarbieBlonde.

The negative part of him rose up, pointing out that she was likely better off without his involvement. Like Rebekah said, Mystic Bakery was doing well, no thanks to him and the Brew. What right did he have to put his issues on her, especially now that he knew who she was while she had reason to hate both sides of him?

He typed a message quickly before his insecurity got the best of him.

_**OriginalHybrid:**  I could hardly blame you for ignoring this, but I miss you._

Sending the brief admission, Klaus closed his eyes. She wouldn't answer. He shouldn't get his hopes up.

Typing bubbles appeared, and his breath caught in his throat. A response so soon wouldn't be a good one, right? A new text popped up, and Klaus forced himself to exhale before reading it.

_**BarbieBlonde:**  How are you going to fix that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...hi! I'm sorry this isn't a better chapter after taking so long to write it, but I hope it's a start to the back half of this story. I can't wait to hear your thoughts, you can comment here or catch me on Tumblr!


	10. Gonna Knock Me Off My Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You’ve Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Klaus stared at the screen, his lips parted at the implied challenge in her words. If he knew how to  _fix it_ , he would have done it already. But it was a fair question, and it was his actions that created the unsatisfactory situation in the first place. 

_**OriginalHybrid:** I had hoped this would be a start. To be completely honest, I’m not sure how I could manage to earn your trust again._

His grip on the phone clenched as she appeared to type her reply. Was her quick reaction a good sign? Or a precursor to the cutting edge he knew Caroline Forbes to wield quite well? Now that he knew just who was on the other end of the conversation, Klaus was uncomfortably aware as to what was at stake. This wasn’t a hypothetical relationship anymore, but one that involved someone very real and tangentially connected to his life. 

Someone he wanted to weave closer ties with, he could finally admit.

_**BarbieBlonde:**_   _I’m not sure you can._

Heart falling in his chest, he wanted to throw the phone across the room. But then another message came through.

_**BB:** But I’m willing to let you try, because I miss you, too. It’s stupid and ridiculous, I know, we’re not even really friends. But I do miss you._

And just like that, Klaus could breathe easily again. There was still a long road to go; at least she allowed the existence of such a road. Before he could embarrass himself further with a string of flustered thank yous, she texted once more.

_**BB:** Will you tell me what happened that night?_

_**OH:** I’m sorry to have disappointed you, love. I wanted more than anything to_

Klaus paused his typing, feeling the need to carefully choose his words. If he ever wanted to give them another chance to move offline, he couldn’t lie to her - wouldn’t, after his horrid behavior. Deleting most of the message, he started again.

_**OH:** I’m sorry. I promise to tell you someday, if it’s any consolation._

Her answer is almost instantaneous.

_**BB:** The cryptic thing kind of hinders the apology, FYI. Can I at least get a timeline?_

_**OH:**  When I can scrape together the courage, I suppose._

_**BB:** Again with the cryptic!_

_**BB:** I don’t do well with unknowns. My brain comes up with scenarios I tend not to like._

_**OH:** All due respect to that delightful brain of yours, I assure you that the fault lies entirely with me._

_**BB:** Duh. It better be one hell of a story._

“You hate me,” Klaus muttered to himself, the explanation obvious though he couldn’t say as much to Caroline. Such an interaction would require more details than he could comfortably reveal for fear of remaining OriginalHybrid in her esteem - not Klaus Mikaelson. 

_**OH:** Perhaps we’ll learn how to laugh about it one day._

He sent the message before thinking it through. What future could he possibly be planning for that promises laughter over his spectacular failure? S _o much for not sending her running_ , he thought uncharitably.

_**BB:** Does that mean you're done with the radio silence? That you still want to be friends?_

A little honesty, more than a little bravery - both were likely in order.

_**OH:** I never meant to put our relationship in jeopardy, and I truly regret the distrust you so rightfully show. But to be plain, I am here for as long as you wish. I hope to always call you a friend._

Fine, not as much bravery as he'd like, but it wasn't like he was in a position to make more intimate overtures than the mere friendship he hoped to reignite. Klaus bounced his leg impatiently awaiting her response. It was a bit overpowering, the ability to speak with her again. Giddy wasn't a word he enjoyed using, but it was the closest he could get to how he felt - rather like a teenager with his first crush.

_**BB:** A friend keeps their promises. No more making plans if you're just going to chicken out._

For a moment, Klaus felt a lift of hope. With that decree plans could be made, he reasoned, if he intended to follow through. Maybe all was not lost with the beautiful Miss Forbes, provided OriginalHybrid could earn her trust once more.

_**OH:** Understood, love. On to more mannered subjects, have your business troubles evened out? I know you were worried._

Perhaps it was a cheap ploy, knowing exactly who she was and where she worked while she likely attempted vague descriptions to avoid identifying details. But he wanted to know that she was okay, and he wanted to know from her. Rebekah had annoyingly gotten herself ingratiated into Caroline's personal life, the tiny bits she shares tempting and hardly enough to sate his hunger to know more.

_**BB:** I guess, but it's still not quite what it used to be. A new opportunity kind of dropped into my lap, though. I'm not sure if it's a good one. Intriguing, at least._

_**OH:** I agree, I'm quite intrigued. What concerns do you have?_

_**BB:**  A friend wants me to work with her company, contract out for her brother's birthday party in the hopes of soliciting my vendor services for future events._

He perked up, those details sounding awfully familiar. She couldn't mean-

_**BB:**  Problem is I hate her family. On principle mostly, but still. I don't know if I want to tie my name to hers. To theirs._

Blinking, Klaus reached for his laptop and pulled up his email. Bekah had been keeping him and Elijah in the loop on Kol's party, not that he cared to pay attention to the details - or much of anything lately. 

Sure enough, under the list item Potential Caterers, Mystic Bakery was at the top of Subsection: Desserts. Caroline might have hated his family, but she managed to tolerate Rebekah - even call her a friend. With time and the right opportunities, maybe Klaus could earn a softening as well. The trick would be to create such opportunities without drawing suspicion.

Klaus wasn’t sure if he’d ever loved Rebekah more than in that moment.

_**OH:** I’ve told you before, ruthlessness is a valuable trait in the business world. Principles aside, it seems you stand a good chance to form a profitable relationship._

_**BB:** Even if I sell my soul in the process? Principles are kind of my thing, seems a shame to let go of them now._

Frowning, he scratched at the scruff of his beard. It was bad enough he was trying to convince her to partner with Rebekah, but actively corrupting her moral code? That lively defiance of hers drew him in, Klaus didn't want to change it.

_**OH:** It's a chance to work with a friend, make some money, expand. What's really holding you back?_

He found himself holding his breath, worried as to what her answer might be.

_**BB:**  Pride, I guess. I want to make my mom proud, to succeed in the right way. _

An odd warmth rose in his chest. Klaus couldn't remember the last time he had done something to make his family proud, if such a thing ever crossed his mind. Ever since Chicago, he supposed his efforts were more in the vein of making it up to Elijah - repaying a debt, nothing more positive than that.

_**OH:** A noble cause. But no one can make you sacrifice your better angels, the woman I know is far too stubborn to let that happen._

_**BB:** You don't know me._

_**OH:** Don't I?_

Caroline didn't answer right away, and Klaus could swear he heard his heartbeat in his ears. She caught on, he was too familiar, any scenario that ended with her walking away from him altogether ran through his mind. It had been a long while since he felt so invested in a relationship, he had already nearly forgotten that Cami walked out on him mere hours earlier.

But he didn't care, because the typing bubbles appeared again. Then disappeared. Helpless, Klaus tapped out a final enticement.

_**OH:** Take a chance, sweetheart._

_**BB:**  Maybe I will. I'm glad we're friends again. Good night._

_**OH:** As am I, truly. Good night._

His hand fell to the couch, the phone dropping from his cramped grip. BarbieBlonde - Caroline - was talking to him again. They were friends. She was going to keep Rebekah's offer in mind; it would hopefully give him enough leeway to ensure he had another chance at becoming more than just Caroline's friend.

He had some planning to do.

* * *

" _If_  I decide to work with you," Caroline stressed, looking Rebekah Mikaelson dead in the eye, "why can't we just contract per event? I don't like the idea of prioritizing customers." 

Rebekah primly sipped her tea, not rattled in the slightest. They'd been negotiating terms of the agreement Bonnie had emailed over, and even an hour's discussion had yet to give Caroline a solid reason to walk away from Choice Affairs altogether. "A promise of six events seems more than fair, Caro. Flexible even. With how quickly we went through the contract for Kol's party, I thought this would be an easy deal to make."

Sagging into her chair, Caroline looked over the details again. There were a few red marks already initialed and approved, and Rebekah was right - it should have been easy, a simple enough decision to help out a friend and keep a steady stream of catering orders from high profile events. "But you're a Mikaelson," she finally said, the one fact Caroline wasn't sure she could get over. "We might be friends now," she gestured between them, "but in a year or two, maybe our working relationship turns toxic. You and your family could do a lot of damage to my reputation and Mystic Bakery. I barely survived the Brews' mere presence down the block."

"Oh, please." Rebekah rolled her eyes at the dramatic overstatement. "You're doing fine, Bonnie told me you could safely return to your full storefront hours within a couple of months, and that's regardless of whether you accept this arrangement. I've already explained my family is only involved as far as seed money. They get no say, and I don't care a whit about Mikaelson dealings as long as my trust is well managed."

She could feel herself wavering, and Caroline bit her lip in heavy consideration.  "Still-"

Sighing, Rebekah leaned back and crossed her arms. "You might be my first choice, Caro, but if this isn't going to work, just tell me. I've got other prospects that won't waste my time worrying about the what-ifs and boogeymen you think look like my brothers. This is the deal - yes or no?"

_Bonnie said yes, Enzo and Davina would love the extra hours,_ she mentally recited as Rebekah waited for her answer none too patiently. OriginalHybrid's familiar challenge kept coming to mind.  _Take a chance_.

"Okay," Caroline finally said, her thumb tracing over the delicate words of her tattoo. Just as she'd told him the night before, she wanted to make Liz proud. "Let's do this, provided Kol's birthday goes smoothly. I might want to renegotiate the final terms before locking Mystic up for six months." She took the blue, glitter gel pen Rebekah offered her, signing the letter of intent with a wry smile. Passing it back, Rebekah did the same. 

"There, welcome to the Choice Affairs team," Rebekah sighed, a note of triumph in her voice as she tucked the papers into her tote bag. "Now that the sordid details of business are out of the way, on to more mannered subjects. How are you doing? Bonnie says you've been working yourself mad, hardly any time for a social life."

With a casual shrug, Caroline dipped a cookie into her coffee before taking a bite. "It's not like I don't see my friends."

Glaring, Rebekah remained unimpressed. "Yes, at work. You do know that the only man you'll meet in that kitchen is Enzo. Unless he and Bonnie have agreed to open their relationship to polyamorous options - and I'm insulted they wouldn't approach me first - then you need to meet new people, get back out there."

Her mouth opened to retort but snapped shut at Rebekah's challenging look. What could she say? She finally got back in touch with her pen pal who might have, sort of, definitely broke her heart; no, she didn't know who he was or why he didn't want to meet her. Not quite the romantic woes her friend was likely expecting to hear. Still, she felt she had to give her something. "There is this guy, nothing serious or even date-like. Just online chatting. He's nice to talk to." Caroline frowned as a thought occurred to her. "It's funny, he also likes 'mannered subjects.' He mentioned that exact phrase the other day."

Rebekah scoffed. "If you're accusing me of catfishing you, you're sorely mistaken. No offense, darling, you're just not my type." She dropped her hand on top of Caroline's with an exaggerated pout. "Uptight, leggier than I am - loath as I am to admit - it would get ugly between us. But you have a point about the coincidence. Maybe he's a Brit?"

"Maybe." That would certainly narrow down her options in New Orleans, but it wasn't like she was running into British accents at the grocery store. The Mikaelsons made up three of the four accented men she knew, and as Rebekah pointed out, Enzo wasn't exactly a viable choice. She almost shuddered at the horror those odds conjured in her mind. With a fortifying drink of coffee, she managed a weak smile. "I don't think it could go very far, though."

"How could you possibly know that?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Caroline shifted to cross her legs. "We had a chance to meet, he backed out," she explained. "Wasn't meant to be. But for what it's worth, he's the one who helped convince me to take a chance on you. On our partnership."

Rebekah sniffed with only a hint of offense. "I'd like to think I was the convincing one."

Caroline reached for her hand, smiling. "You know you're the main selling point on this little arrangement," she pointed out, "I just needed a little pep talk to take the meeting. He's good at those, pep talks." Her smile fell as she looked to her mug, swishing around the final dregs of her latte.

"You like him." When she glanced up, Rebekah was carefully watching her reaction. "This man, whoever he is, you like him."

"Doesn't matter," Caroline answered with a helpless lift of her shoulder. "Anyway, I've got a new business partnership to get excited about. A  _man_ ," she said, waggling her eyebrows, "would just be a distraction. No, thank you."

Rebekah looked ready to press the subject, so Caroline decided to change it. "Wait, did you admit to crushing on Bonnie and Enzo?"

"I have fine taste," she shrugged, and Caroline giggled at the distant expression as she licked her lips. Girl talk was a good idea. "Did I ever tell you about my fling with Marcel?"

Humming, Caroline shook her head. "Talk about fine taste," she teased. "Tell me everything."

* * *

Rebekah was smiling ear to ear when he found her waiting at the restaurant, one of her favorites just off the quarter. It was something of an apology after lunch the day before, and he didn't particularly want to go back to his half-empty apartment. More importantly, he had some interesting business to address with his sister. Klaus leaned down to kiss her cheek in greeting, only for her to wrap him in a hug as well. "Someone's in a pleasant mood," he noted. "I haven't even told you the good news yet."

"What good news?" She looked confused, though she easily brushed it away with a sip of wine. "I have some of my own, I signed my first vendor for Choice Affairs."

Nodding, Klaus couldn't help the warm grin that pulled at his lips. "That's wonderful, Bekah. Who's the lucky one?"

But she waved him off, instead signaling for the waiter. Despite her lack of confirmation, he was quite sure Rebekah's company would be a reliable client for Mystic Bakery. Klaus ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate, much to her gleeful surprise. "Okay, what do you have to share?"

"I spoke to Elijah today, asked for a peek at your business plan he has on file. It's good," Klaus said, cutting off what would likely be his baby sister's fierce argument against their family's nosy habits. "I want to help make it better."

Rebekah scoffed and finished off her wine. "What part of 'stay out of it' is so hard for you all to understand? This is  _my_  business. You're more than welcome to hire me for events, but even then, you only get so much say in my decisions."

Smirking, Klaus let her rant until she cataloged all the reasons he, Elijah, and especially Kol have no reason to be getting involved. "And I agree," he finally replied when she stopped to take a breath. "Kol would only make a nuisance of himself, and Elijah is likely better off as an investor. But I develop sites, Bekah," he pointed out. "My entire job is to find potential and make it grow."

With a grumpy stare, she crossed her arms. "I'm listening."

"If we were to incorporate Choice Affairs under the Mikaelson brand-"

"No."

"-then you'd have our marketing and communications team at your disposal, as well as the run of our Rolodex to find new clients."

Rebekah snorted, "I have that anyway. Again, this business is entirely my own aside from Elijah's initial funding. If I were to let the Brews absorb my operations, it could even endanger the relationships I've been cultivating. I signed Mystic Bakery today, Nik, but only contingent upon Kol's birthday party. Caroline would have a chance to renegotiate, and she would pull out altogether if she knew it would be a Mikaelson extension."

The waiter returned to pour the champagne, and Klaus clinked his filled glass with hers. "Congratulations, I'm surprised she would work with a Mikaelson at all." 

"I never realized you knew her that well." Rebekah was watching him, suspicion clear in her gaze.

Klaus just shrugged. "She had some...let's call them 'opinions' about my effect on the neighborhood, which she shared none too kindly at some fundraiser the mayor threw." He glanced through the menu, if only to hide the small grin that rose from the memory. "Spirited, isn't she?"

Giving him a shrewd look, Rebekah nodded. "She is, though I'm not sure why that makes you smile like an idiot." His immediate attempt to sober his expression did not escape her notice. "Well, well, well, it looks like someone is getting over his breakup just fine."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Rebekah rolled her eyes in exasperation. "She's single, you know. In a bit of a dry spell, if you don't count online flirtations."

Klaus fought against a reaction to that, glad he hadn't been drinking at the moment. He met Rebekah's challenging stare with as even a gaze he could manage. "I doubt it would be wise to fraternize with the enemy, even if she would be interested in such a thing," he finally said. "Caroline Forbes has no use for the likes of me."

The air felt heavy as Rebekah seemed to weigh an accusation at the tip of her tongue. She sighed, perusing the menu for herself to give them both a moment of private reflection. Klaus thought the matter dropped, at least until she spoke again. "I accept your offer for help," she said plainly. "Regardless of your current job performance, as Elijah so politely calls your slack, you do know how to raise fledgling businesses. As long as I kick you out before we get too successful, this just might work."

Echoes of Chicago haunted him, knowing full well to what she referred. "Sounds fair."

"And you never know," she shrugged, looking up with that shrewd expression again. "Maybe you'll even grow on Caroline a bit. Once she gets used to you, who knows what might happen?"

He narrowed his eyes as she smirked into her menu, ruthless trying - and failing - to tamp down the sudden flare of hope in his stomach.

* * *

Dinner lasted ages as Rebekah pulled out every detail of Cami leaving, his business trips, even the time he spent at the studio. Ever the baby of the family, she enjoyed keeping him hostage in a misery of his own making. Of course, she also took to heart his offer of assistance and shared the inner workings of Choice Affairs as she's balanced the start-up with her school work. Her mentor at business school was all too happy to apprise her of the more technical matters, probably fueling her independent streak and refusing help from the Brews.

But Klaus, she was letting him in, and it made him feel good. Lighter.

He even hummed as he walked to the studio, the balmy New Orleans air tinged with lively jazz floating from the bars just starting their night. Hands in his pockets, Klaus didn't feel the need to rush as he usually did with the urge to paint. Something warm in veins kept his pace leisurely as he strolled down the block. 

That warmth fizzled to pure energy when he noticed a light coming from the Mystic Bakery window. He shouldn't, he knew, not when his plan to ingratiate himself with Rebekah's company and therefore  _hers_ was happening quite fast enough on its own. Still, he found himself drawn to the bright window like a moth to the flame, eager and willing to burn if it meant basking in the glow. His ears burned from the poor poetry in his comparison; nevertheless, it felt true.

From a few steps away, he could see Caroline hard at work in the kitchen. Half-covered in flour, she was kneading a large ball of dough, the rhythmic rocking of her hands oddly soothing to him. He could have been watching for her for a minute or an hour when she finally dropped it into a bowl. She brushed a dusted hand across her forehead before turning to the sink. It would be better to announce his presence than to be found out, Klaus figured, so he knocked on the window.

She pursed her lips even as her eyes widened, her expression a mix of wild surprise and a subtle resignation. Klaus couldn't help but smirk as she obviously weighed the outcomes of whether or not she should open the window. Luckily for him, she did. "We're not open," Caroline greeted tartly.

Klaus leaned against the ledge, tongue poking out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "I know, which is why I'm surprised to find you here so early."

"Cinnamon rolls require more prep, I just finished the pastry," she replied. Her arms crossed in what he assumed was discomfort. He didn't like that. "It needs to rest. What are you doing here?"

Shrugging, Klaus smiled. "I like cinnamon rolls," he answered instead. 

"Okay...?" She huffed at his lack of reaction, apparently needing more to go on. "Well, they'll be ready in a couple of hours. I'll make sure to have Enzo help you."

"Why's that, love? Now that you and my sister are friends, can't we be allowed the same?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, turning her back to pluck another bowl from the counter. He peeked over the rim to see a collection of spice tins and measuring cups. "Rebekah has proven herself to be a friend, over time, with kind words and emotional support. That kind of thing."

With a cant of his head, Klaus gave an unsure frown. "That sounds like a friend, but not like Bekah."

"It was a slow start," Caroline admitted with the faintest smile. "And there are days she acts so spoiled I want to throw a smoothie in her face, but it's a work in progress. Friendship."

"And colleagues," Klaus added. "She mentioned that you'd agreed to cater for Kol's birthday, maybe more. Was quite excited about it over dinner. It helps her, I think, to know others believe in the future of her business." He liked watching the proud smile stretch across her face, even if it was somewhat tempered in his presence. "Thank you, for that."

Blinking, Caroline seemed at a loss for words. She looked down to her bowl, clearing it out to mix the cinnamon filling. "That was fast. I didn't think she was involving the rest of the Mikaelson brood."

"Elijah's the money, Kol will no doubt enjoy what he imagines a free invitation to her events, but no. They won't be involved in the day-to-day," Klaus assured her, though not for long.

" _They_?"

Klaus nodded slowly, watching her face for any sign of softening. "I work development for the Brews, and I'm happy to help Bekah through the faltering first steps of any new venture."

A flash of anger lit in her eyes. "Yet you have no problem tripping up good, small businesses that aren't run by your family."

"For what it's worth," Klaus said, an earnest edge in his voice, "I'm glad your bakery has withstood our intrusion. It would have been a shame for the neighborhood to lose you."

The anger bled out of her expression, only to be replaced by confusion. Caroline paused in stirring to really look at him. "Seriously, why are you here?"

He held her curious stare, his defenses loosening when all he wanted was for her to know everything, for her to understand why it was so important for him to at least try. But he wasn't ready to tell, doubted she would be ready to hear it. So he opted for the closest thing to the truth. "I do want to be your friend, Caroline."

"Why would I want to be friends with the spawn of Satan?" she asked, though her voice lacked the bitter taste of her earlier anger. It almost sounded like a joke to him.

Klaus grinned. "You seem to like his other spawn just fine, perhaps I hoped it was transferable."

Pressing her lips together, it looked like she was biting back a laugh. "I guess we'll have to find out," she allowed once her face was able to relax once more.

"I guess so." He offered his hand, his watch tugging free of his sleeve as she graciously shook it. "Good night, Caroline."

He turned, humming again as he made his way to the studio with a bit more urgency. The creative rush he'd been missing before had made itself known, and Klaus couldn't wait to paint wisps of flour among strands of blonde hair.

* * *

"Good night," she replied a beat too late, her voice far too faint.

To be fair, Caroline felt like she was fighting back the beginnings of a panic attack. She grasped for a bottle of water, taking slow sips until she managed to get her breathing under control. Once she could think about anything other than oxygen, she forced herself to put facts in context.

Rebekah thought OriginalHybrid could be a British man. He was a man who promised to meet her that night at Shop Around the Corner. Instead, she met Klaus Mikaelson, but without the fancy watch she'd been told to look for.

A watch she thought she just recognized on Klaus Mikaelson's wrist, which meant-

"What the fuck?!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! This project has been a long time coming, and I'm finally posting in hopes of gaining some motivated followers to encourage me to KEEP WRITING. Teamwork makes the dream work, and I need all the help I can get. Let me know what you think, and you can always hit me up on FFnet or Tumblr at the same username. Cheers!


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